


Only an Inch, Only a Lifetime

by eib_kom_slakgedakru



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: BAMF Clarke Griffin, BAMF Lexa, BAMF Octavia, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Grounder Culture, M/M, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Swordfighting, Trigedasleng
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 00:42:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10628580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eib_kom_slakgedakru/pseuds/eib_kom_slakgedakru
Summary: What could, and should have happened in 3x07 and after.(Lexa deserved better, and so did we.)Some of these chapters are gonna be short, so I can update weekly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All Trig translations are at the end of every chapter, and Thanks to Slakgedakru, I'm learning this amazing Language.  
> I love to hear your comments and thoughts, please feel free to leave 'em!!

Only An Inch, Only a Lifetime

 

                                                                Chapter 1 ( Everything starts with Something)

* * *

 

_Pain._

That’s the first thing that she can consciously remember. Pain.  The kind of pain that drags her from the comforting abyss where she was and thrusts her into the harsh light of day.  She screams and thrashes, trying to escape. To run. To do _anything_ that will get her away from this pain.  But it doesn’t work, there’s someone holding her limbs down.  More than one. Then voices call her back.  She tries over and over to go to the voices.  To fight, because that’s what she knows.

“Hold her!!!”

Fade.

“ _Heda!!! Em ste yuj. Ai nou na…”_

Fade.

Green eyes. “Stay here, Clarke. Stay with me.”  And with that she remembers everything.  Lexa. The Mountain. Roan. Lexa entwined with her, souls bare. Getting ready to leave.  Titus with a gun.

She looks down. Her hands and feet are tied to the bed, and there’s a large warrior leaning over her, both his hands on her pelvis, holding it steady. Blood everywhere.  Red, not black.  There’s a healer, she can see the robes, and she’s got her fingers inside….she’s….

Fade.

“ _Beja, ai niron. Beja, nou bants ai_ “.  Fingers holding her jaw. Forcing cold liquid in. Swallow.

Fade.

She wakes up, and the pain is there. Less, but just shy of consuming her.  She is not on her bed, she can see that. She remembers this ceiling…remembers where she saw it last. Lexa. Where is Lexa?  She lifts her head, and looks around.  There are candles everywhere, of course there are. The healer is curled up in a fur covered arm chair, in one corner of the room.  Laying on the couch, face relaxed in sleep is Lexa.  She clears her throat, it’s dry and scratchy.  The noise startles Lexa awake, and she jumps up from the bed, eyes scanning the room, hand reaching for the hilt of a sword that isn’t there.  Lexa turns, and sees Clarke awake. She reacts instantly, bounding over to the bed, to her bed, while kicking the healers chair.  “ _Fisa, gyon op!! Em stomba raun!!”_ “Spirits, you’re awake. Don’t move, you were injured. Let me get you some water”, Lexa says.  Clarke looks at her and asks “What happened?”  “You don’t remember, Clarke?” asks Lexa, moving to the side of the bed to pour some water into a wooden cup while the healer begins to look into Clarkes eyes.  She looks under the eyelids, has her stick out her tongue, while Clarke is trying to talk. 

“I remember Titus shooting at Murphy, I remember…” Clarke trails off, aware that the healer is lifting the blankets up, and she can see her torso for the first time. A mass of bandages cover the right side of her abdomen, bulky enough to have slightly lifted the mass of furs that she was laying under.  There’s a greenish brown paste spreading out from under the bandages, and the healer looks at Lexa after touching them.  “ _Taim em nou don wan op, taim em na ge fis op, Heda_.” She looks at Clarke, and smiles kindly. “ _Yu na gon figa_.”  She lowers the furs, and looks at Lexa with her eyebrows raised. “ _Mochof, Lora. Gon osir we_ ” is the reply, tempered with a smile.  “ _Sha, Heda. Ste yuj, Bandrona Klork kom Skaikru. Ai na komba raun nodotaim kom nat_ ”, as Lora bows out of the room, closing the door behind her.  Clarke can get a glimpse before the doors close, and she can see that the hallway is packed with guards.  More than usual.

               “ Lora is my personal healer. She was trained by one of the best, but doesn’t speak a single word of _Gonasleng_.  She refuses to learn, says that a warriors tongue will ‘dampen her healing spirit.’” Lexa speaks with an air of fondness, looking at the closed door.  She looks down, and sees that her hand has somehow made it back into Clarkes.  Clarke feels Lexas hand in hers, the skin dry, her hand strong and soft at the same time.  Her face is drawn, dark circles under her eyes, and her braided hair is partially undone. “What’s wrong?” asks Clarke. Lexa flinches, not a big one, but telling enough to one who knows her.  “Nothing, Clarke.  You need to focus on healing.” is the answer, while forest green eyes slide away from sky blue ones to focus on the pillow Clarke is laying on.  Clarke sighs, and says “ Lexa, please tell me.  What’s happened, and how long have I been asleep?”  Lexa smiles.  “The first time, or the second time, _ai hodnes_?”

 “What do you mean?” asks Clarke, after taking another few sips of water.  Lexa sits down on the bed next to her, unwilling to relinquish Clarkes hand for even a moment.  Already the lines of tension are leaving her face, making her less _Heda_ and more _Leksa kom Trikru_.  “After you were injured”, and Lexas eyes shift momentarily to the small mound under the furs. She visibly swallows and begins again.  “After you were injured, you lost a lot of blood, and the healers were not sure that you would survive. _Okteivia kom Skaikru_ had the idea of putting the blood of someone else inside you, called a transfusion.” Lexa stumbles over the unfamiliar word, and Clarke knows that this is more knowledge that was lost when the bombs fell and the world ended.  “ _Okteivia_ said that are different types of blood, and that giving you the wrong one could kill you.  I took a chance that as a _Natblida_ my blood would overcome this problem.  Also, it was my right as your _niron_ to make this choice.  We lay side by side, it was odd seeing my black blood going into you. _Okteivia_ said that it was successful, and you began to breathe easier. You woke up and asked for something to draw with, and something to eat.  That’s when you began to shake and bite your tongue.  That lasted for less time than it took the _fisa_ to get to your bed, and since then you slept.  It’s been 4 days in total, some of the worst 4 days I’ve ever had.”

Lexa squeezes her hand, relief evident on her face. “You once told me that my spirit needs to stay where it is, and now I tell you the same thing.  I need your spirit to stay where it is, _ai niron_.”  Lexa smiles as she tells this to Clarke, love evident in her voice and her face. 

Clarke squeezes her hand back with a smile, feeling better than she has since she woke up. “Wait, O is still here? Didn’t she leave to go back to Arkadia before the blockade goes up? Where did she get the supplies to transfuse anyone? What else happened?” 

Lexas smile falls away, and the mask of the _Heda_ comes back in its place.  “Your friend stayed here in Polis after you were injured, and she was unable to return to Arkadia before the blockade went up.  Since she didn’t cross it, she’s safe.  She’s a fierce fighter, one with the makings of a great warrior.  She needs more guidance, it’s a shame that Indra cast her away when she ignored orders and went into the Mountain.  She says that she ‘borrowed’ some medical supplies”, Clarke can hear the wryness in the Commanders voice, “the last time she was inside _Maun-de_.  I have tasked her with infiltrating Arkadia, to gain us inside information. She alone of the _Skaikru_ can pass through the blockade, until the murderers are brought before me and justice is done.”

Lexa sighs.   “As for the rest, there’s not much to tell. Titus is held in his rooms, since I can’t kill him for what he did to you.  As the last _Fleimkepa_ , he is untouchable.  He must not be harmed, for if I die, the Flame must be passed onto the next _Natblida_ that the Spirit deems worthy. “  She smirks.  “But this is not to say that his rooms are pleasant.  I moved them to the area of the tower that’s just above the latrines.  And his food is all overcooked, and cold.  Like you said, it’s the little things.”  She gets up, and begins to pace back and forth in front of the bed.  “So far, I have not heard anything from the line.  What I do know is that _Skaikru_ has not given up the murderers, for some reason.  I still have no idea why they decided to attack a peace keeper force.  There’s so much that I don’t know, and I need that information.  My hope is that your friend can get it.  Your other friend, the one that Titus was trying to kill, made his way out of the tower in the confusion, and hasn’t been seen since.”

 Clarke looks at her, and her brow furrows. She shifts with a small wince, and says, “And the large number of guards?”

 Lexa continues to pace, not even giving the door a look.  “With news of the massacre in Polis, I didn’t want to take a chance, however small, that someone would get into the tower and try to get revenge.  As _Bandrona kom Skaikru_ , you are the voice and face of your people.  Therefore, anyone who still practices _jus drein jus daun_ would seek you out.  And there are factions within the Coalition that feel that my attention is….elsewhere since your injury.  And then there are the people who would seek out the _niron kom Heda_ , thinking that having you would make me their puppet.” 

“How did they know about us? We were careful…” Clarke trails off, thinking fast. The healer wouldn’t have said anything, but what about the guard? 

Lexa interrupted Clarkes musing. “The fault is mine, I’m afraid.  I may have been a bit…excessive when you were injured.  And my people are not stupid.  There would only be one reason why my personal _fisa_ would be here.  People would have seen that I spent the last few days at your side and realized that my affection for you is…”  Lexa turns when she hears a soft noise behind her, and sees that Clarke has fallen asleep again.  Lexa smiles, and pulls the furs closer over Clarke.  She brushes her lips over Clarkes forehead, and whispers “Sleep well, my love.  Sleep well and grow strong, because we deserve more than to just survive.”

                                                                                           ~ * ~

 

                                                                _Trigedasleng_ (Tree People Language)

_Heda!!! Em ste yuj. Ai nou na =_ Commander!! She is strong, I can’t

_Beja, ai niron. Beja, nou bants ai =_ Please, my love       . Please, don’t leave me.

_Fisa, gyon op!! Em stomba raun =_ Healer, get up!! She’s awake

_Taim em nou don wan op, taim em na ge fis op, Heda =_ If she didn’t die, then she will be healed, Commander.

_Yu na gon figa =_ You will be healthy _._

_Mochof, Lora. Gon osir we =_ Thank you very much, Laura. Leave us.

_Sha, Heda. Ste yuj, Bandrona Klork kom Skaikru. Ai na komba raun nodotaim kom nat =_ Yes, Commander. Be strong, Ambassador Clarke of the Sky People. I will return again tonight.

_Gonasleng=_ warriors speech (English).

_Leksa kom Trikru_ = Lexa of the Tree People

_Ai hodnes =_ My love.

_Okteivia kom Skaikru =_ Octavia of the Sky People

_Natblida =_ Night blood (one born with black blood)

_Maun-de =_ The Mountain (Mount Weather)

_Fleimkepa_ = Flamekeeper

_jus drein jus daun=_ Blood must have blood


	2. Octavia makes some plans

                                                                                Chapter 2 (Octavia makes some Plans)

* * *

 

                 Octavia pushes a branch out of her face, wincing as one of her braids gets tangled in the strap of her scabbard as it shifts. She moves it, tucking the two braids on the side of her head to the back, out of the way and ensuring a smooth draw of her sword.  It’s been a long couple of days since she left Polis after Clarke was injured.  She damn near killed her horse getting to TonDC, and she’s traveled the rest of the way at a wolfs lope, the light pace no strain on her now hardened system.  She sniffs, smelling wood smoke and cooking meat in the distance.  The smells….smoke, cooking meat, woods, damp leaves, dirt.  So different from the Ark.  There the air was disinfected, cleansed, and circulated around the 12 stations that made up the Ark.  The people smelled different, even she knows that.  Water was too precious for bathing, so people used a mixture of antiseptic wipes to get large amounts of dirt and sweat off of their skin, and UV stalls to kill any residual bacteria.  Her experience was limited, though, to her brother and her mother, until her mother was floated.  She was never allowed to leave their rooms, never allowed to meet another human being.  Hidden under the floorboards, fed a small portion every day from the saved rations of her family, a life in limbo.  Draconian population laws kept the Arks resources from being depleted.  Food, water, oxygen…all were strictly rationed and monitored.  Her very existence was a crime that got her mother executed and her sentenced to be sent to Earth with the other delinquents.  Best thing that ever happened to her, she muses.  Without that, she would have never met Lincoln, never have become the warrior that she is now. 

              She takes another deep breath, pushing away unnecessary thoughts _._ She hopes that this mission for _Heda_ may convince Indra, her _Fos,_  to take her back.  At the very least, she may be able to save Lincoln, and that would be worth it all.  The familiar feeling of anger seeps over her, almost scary in intensity. The overwhelming urge to hit something almost takes her by surprise, and she’s glad that she’s alone right now.  Chancellor Pike is her enemy, not the people of Arkadia, she knows this.  It gives her a target for the anger, something to focus on so she doesn’t lose her mind and start attacking everything in sight.  She continues to walk towards the smells.

               She knows that she must be nearing the camps of the blockade as the smells are getting stronger and she can hear voices shouting in Trigedasleng to each other.  Without warning two bodies drop from the trees on either side of her, weapons quickly unsheathed and pointed her way in a very non-friendly manner.  She can also hear the creak of a bow being drawn from behind her and above.  She holds up her hands, and beings to talk to them rapidly.  “ _Hei gona, meikas’s slak. Ai gaf chich yu wormana op.”_ They look her up and down, and they converse quickly, leaning so close together that their masks touch.  They separate, and the one on the right motions her towards the army with the handle of his mace.  “ _Yumi’s klir”_ is his response, and when Octavia turns around to ask who is in charge he’s gone, no sign of his standing there evident.  Octavia thinks fast as she nears the encampment. Sentries posted on this side of the blockade could only mean that the war chief is worried about betrayal from one of the other clans.  If that was true then that meant that the _Kongeda_ was starting to fracture.  She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and walks into the camp, broadcasting her willingness to fight by sheer attitude alone.

                She found the war chief in his tent, looking over a map table.  There are no words on it, since most of those born on the ground are illiterate, more knowledge lost to the world until the return of the Ark.  He looks up and down at her, and says, “Another scout? Why do they send me another one, I have all that I need.”  No reply is forthcoming, while Octavia strips the glove from her right hand.  She holds her palm up at eye level, showing him the symbol tattooed on her palm.  Lexa assured her that this was a special dye, one that was made in Polis by the _Heda_ according to a secret recipe and would fade within 3 weeks.  “Unless you choose to get it placed again”, Lexa tells her as the tattooist bends over her palm, poking her skin over and over with a needle.  The gear on her palm matches the gear on Lexas forehead, letting those who see it know that she is acting on the behalf of _Heda_.  When Octavia thinks about it, it’s an ingenious system.  With nobody who knows how to read or write, this is the perfect way to identify a messenger.  And since it fades, it’s not a long term carte blanche.  His eyes widen.  “ _Bajon-de kom Heda”_ , is all he says, as he drops to one knee. 

               “ _Gyon op”_ , says Octavia.  She’s still a bit uncomfortable with the deference that she gets by flashing this around, and has been waiting for someone to yell that it’s a fake.  The horse trainer in in TonDC explained to her that _Heda_ is the reason that the 12 Clans are at peace; that the _Kongeda_ is there because she created it, and enforces its laws.  To forge this symbol is to be banished from the lands of the _Kongeda_ , a veritable death sentence. Assuming that _Heda_ didn’t kill the offender herself.

                The _wormana_ stands up, and clasps his hands behind his back.  The fact that _Heda_ has sent this young _gona_ here is not lost on him.  She is watching, he knows this.  “Relax war chief”, the young _gona_ says.  “ _Heda_ didn’t send me to watch you, she sent me to infiltrate _Skaikru._ What I need from you is information on what happened since the blockade went up.  And a way to get my information to Polis.” 

                “Easily done”, comes the terse reply. “Since the blockade has gone up, _Skaikru_ has huddled inside Arkadia, only attempting to break through one time.  They tried to take their truck and ram their way through.  Silly _branwodas_ didn’t realize that they can’t go over big things.  Like trees in the road.  After we put some arrows in their doors and took out a window, they crept back to Arkadia like a dog with its tail drooping.  Since then, we haven’t seen or heard from them.  Every encampment has orders to send a runner should there be any activity, and I have scouts posted.  I sent two messengers, but they have not returned.  Probably taken hostage by those filthy sky rats.” 

                Octavia paces for a minute, gnawing on a fingernail. “Ok”, she says, “this is the plan.  I’m going to wait until nightfall, and sneak into Arkadia.  When I need to get back here, I’m going to come out, and signal the scouts that you have posted so that they don’t kill me.  I’ll give you my information, which you are charged with getting to _Heda_ as quick as possible.”

                “How am I supposed to get it, anyone attempting to cross-“.  Octavia cuts him off by reaching into a belt pouch, and withdrawing an old, wooden carved whistle.  She tosses it to him, and gives him an expectant look.  The war chief puts it to his lips and blows, and recoils as a loud “quack” fills the room.

                “That was the call of a bird that lives mostly in _Azgeda_.  I have another one just like it, and if I blow it, it means that scouts are to let me pass.  You have one, so you can teach the scouts to recognize it.”  Octavia smiles dangerously, “There are plastic pieces in there that can’t be duplicated, and I’m taking it back to _Heda_ when I report for my next assignment.  So don’t let anyone other than yourself handle it.” Let them think that she works for Lexa all the time, she thinks.  It’ll make her job easier.  She slips her glove on, and points to a corner of the tent.  “I’ll sleep here until night, try not to disturb me.”

 

* * *

                                                                                                                                        Interlude

**1 months ago**

              Thelonius Jaha, former Chancellor of the Ark, wiped the sweat off of his head, turns backwards and purses his eyes. In the distance he can see the territory of the _Ingrarona_ falling behind them.  It’s been a difficult trek so far; of the 25 people who chose to leave Arkadia with him in search of the City of Light, more than half are gone. Sickness, animal attack, outcast Grounders who decided to prey on the travelers, and weather have all conspired to take his people from him.  He sees them gathering around him, looking to him for guidance.  He reflects that even after he’s left the Ark, the Ark hasn’t left him.  But he vows that he will lead his people, and find a way to save even those who refused to follow him, for that’s what great leaders do.  He stands tall, and raises his voice.  “It’s been a long journey, my friends.  Longer than any of us thought it would take.  We had horses to speed us on our way, and some were taken.  We ate the others, for which we thank Kelly and those spices of hers.”  Kelly blushes, her clothing obviously made for someone who weighed a lot more than she does.  They’ve all lost on this journey, weight and faith alike. “We’ve seen friends fall by the wayside, and we have met new friends amongst the Grounders.  But I can tell you that we are near our journeys end!!”  He turns, and dramatically points towards a mountain range to the west.  “There, my friends, is our goal.” 

                “Chancellor, how do you know?” someone from the back asks.  It’s Eric from Mecha Station, of course it would be, Jaha thinks. 

Thelonius closes his eyes and begins to chant, having long ago committed the words to memory. “Journey with the setting sun in your face, past the herds of the _Ingrarona_.  You will find a plain of glass, but keep traveling.  When you see the _Heda_ of the past staring at you from the mountain, turn north. 3 days journey from there will you behold the wonders of the City of Light.” 

                 Eric sourly asks, “And does this poem tell you where this is?”

                “No, my friend”, answers Jaha. He holds up a battered and torn copy of _National Geographic._ “This does.  What you see before you, my friends, is Mount Rushmore.”

 

                                                                                                                                                   ~ * ~

 

 _Fos=_ First (more experienced warrior)

 _Seken=_ Second (warriors apprentice)

 _Hei gona, meikas’s slak. Ai gaf chich yu wormana op=_ Hi warriors. My hand is empty (I mean you no harm). I need to speak with your war chief.

 _Yumi’s klir=_ We’re safe (from each other).  Used as a greeting, similar to ‘nice to meet you as well’.

 _Kongeda=_ Coalition/alliance

 _Bajon-de kom Heda=_ The badge of the Commander

 _Branwodas=_ Idiots

 _Azgeda=_ Ice Nation

 _Ingrarona=_ Plains riders


	3. Pike makes some plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pike makes some plans, but so does Bellamy Blake

                                                                                                     

* * *

 

                                                                                                                             Chapter 3

* * *

 

                Charles Pike, Chancellor of Arkadia looks around the room and at the faces of his Council.  He  sees what he had hoped not to see.  He sees desperation, fear, and in some, the beginnings of panic.  “Alright people, let's not run away with ourselves here.  I know it’s early, and we’re all tired, but we can do this.  Let's take another look, and maybe we can figure something out.”  He moved to the end of the room, where a large data screen took up most of the wall.  Grabbing the control glove, he slid it onto his hand, and brought the screen to life.  Staring at them is an aerial view of Arkadia and the surrounding countryside.  “Thanks to the two drones that we managed to save from Mount Weather, we have aerial reconnaissance that the Grounders have no way of countering.  There are twelve encampments surrounding us, some smaller than others.”  Manipulating the glove, the scene zooms out and twelve red circles appear in a loose circle around Arkadia.  “They appear to be stationed five miles out, and haven’t moved in the seven days since they arrived.  However, their presence is not only affecting the populace, it’s also cutting back on our ability to forage for food.  Hannah, how are the food supplies doing?”

                “As of now we are doing ok, Chancellor”, Hannah answered.  Her lined, dour face creased after a moments worth of thought.  “Right now we don’t have to ration anything, that artesian well that we were able to tap into has given us a fresh supply of water.  Thanks to Chief Sinclair, the hydroponics system is working even better than expected.  We should have a whole crop of fresh vegetables ready for harvesting in about three weeks or so.  Add that to what we are growing outdoors, and we won’t be starving anytime soon.”

                “Excellent news!!  That brings us to your section, Sinclair.  How are we doing on the mechanical front? I feel that your section is where we have the most superiority over these savages.”  Sinclair stands up, and clasps his hands behind his back, almost looking like a schoolboy reciting a lesson.  “First off, the thanks for the hydroponics system goes to Raven Reyes, not me.  She was the one who was able to jury rig the system.  Secondly, I’m not quite sure what you mean, sir.  The Grounders have effectively neutralized our vehicles by either digging ditches, or blocking the roads with logs.  Our rovers don’t have the wheel width to bridge those kinds of gaps, and we don’t have the ability to retrofit them with tank treads.”  Sinclair looks around the room, and quietly says, “Our armored trucks won’t help us if we can’t get them onto the battlefield.  We may be able to use them if they break through the wall…but that would be a last ditch effort.”

                “What about tunnels? Can’t you build a tunnel, or a bunker or something that we could run to if they break in?”, came the nervous query.  Pike looked over at the person who asked the question.  It was Reinhardt, the section chief for Power Station.  Anyone who worked with the man knew that he was in love with keeping his skin in one piece, and doing as little as possible.  Pike began to answer, but Sinclair answered first.  “There is no way to build a tunnel more than five miles long with the equipment that we currently have.  Lack of equipment is the better way to put it.  That sort of digging is noisy, would draw attention, and we have nowhere to put the displaced earth.  Also, without a land survey, I wouldn’t be able to tell you if we were drilling into stable bedrock, or something unstable.  Hell, just drilling into a limestone cave could cause sinkholes to open up and break the wall.  And before you ask, no, I don’t have ground penetrating radar or anything else that could help us.”

                Pike jumps in, his gaze firmly directed at Reinhardt.  “And building a bunker would only put us in a smaller space with less options.  Once we were in that bunker, there’s no way of getting out.  No, that’s the wrong answer.  We need to think about ways of defeating this enemy, not running and hiding.  John, how are we doing on ammo, and people to use it?”

               “Chancellor, we are doing better than ok. I have enough weapons and ammunition for even the children to learn, practice, and become proficient in firearms usage.  I’ve started recruiting civilians, building a militia.  With your permission, I’d like to begin basic weapons training for the rest of the adult population.  Also, when we raided Mount Weathers armory, we took all their weapons and computer data, in addition to a large cache of explosives, and some 75 antipersonnel devices.  I can mine the perimeter about a hundred yards out, with either trip wires, or direct trigger, however you want it.  Maybe even rig up an auto-targeting system for some belt-fed weapons.  Between that and the electrified fence, I think we are pretty secure.”

              “No, we’re not, and you’re an idiot if you think that.” A harsh voice sounded in the room, and the owner of that voice pushed himself off the wall where he had been leaning, unobtrusively.  Bellamy Blake, thought Pike.  Good fighter, followed orders without question, but a bit irrational where his sister Octavia was concerned.  Good thing that she was off playing Grounder elsewhere, Pike thought, or she would be in the stockade with the others.  He jerked his eyes and mind back to the conversation at hand.  “I’ve been here longer than any of you, and I’ve been fighting the Grounders almost just as long.  First off, since we can’t get out, they always know where we are.  They can live off the land, and we can’t.  Second, don’t mistake their lack of technology for stupidity.  They deliberately infected our camp with a virus designed to weaken, but not kill us, after we first landed.  Nothin’ says they can’t do it again.  Third, they know this land, and they know it to the inch.  If they haven’t attacked us yet”, and he leans back against the wall, “there’s a damn good reason for it.”

              Slow clapping fills the air, courtesy of Reinhardt. “Thank you for that rousing assessment of our situation, Blake.  Maybe, since you’re so smart and all knowing, why don’t you tell us what those damned Grounders want???”  The last few words are delivered in a near shriek, causing a few of those near Reinhardt to back slightly away, not interested in getting caught in the spray of saliva. 

              “Well, that would be difficult to figure out, since we shot the first two messengers that came to the gate before they could talk. But, MY guess is that they didn’t like our massacre of their army.  Especially considering that they were set up facing AWAY from us, like they were protecting us.  But that’s just my guess”, Blake replied, while leaning over the table and planting both his hands.  “Best way to figure out what they want is to ask them.”

               Several Council members chuckle, one outright laughing. “What do you propose, we just walk up and ask them?”  “Sure, why not?”, comes the response.  “We all know that the Grounders won’t harm a messenger, even if we did.  Hopefully, they won’t take it out on whoever we send.  And we need to send someone, because they won’t wait forever.”

               “I volunteer you, Blake!!” Reinhardt smiles as he says this, leaning back in his seat. “You said it yourself, they respect strength and fighting spirit and all that crap.  Well, you’ve been fighting them, and you helped them out of their cages in Mount Weather.  If anyone has a chance, it’s you.  Anybody else in favor of sending the hero out there?”  A chorus of voices voice their affirmative, and Pike looks at Bellamy with a question in his face. 

                Bellamy smiles, and Pike realizes that he may have misjudged the older Blake. This is the smile of someone who just got what he wanted.  Was he growing a conscience?  Time to keep an eye on him, Pike thought.  “Sure” Bellamy is saying as Pike blinks, “I’ll go.  Might be nice to stretch my legs for a bit.”  Reinhardt laughs, and then he realizes that Bellamy isn’t kidding.  “Are you crazy? We can’t let you go out there, you’re the second in command of the Guard.  You’re way too necessary…” Reinhardt trails off as Bellamy simply nods to Pike, and walks out of the room.  Reinhardt looks around.  “What? It’s not like I thought he was actually going to do it, nobody is that crazy.”  Pike looks at Reinhardt with a flat look of anger, which Reinhardt returns with a look of bewilderment.  “I mean it, Charles.  Who would be stupid enough to willingly leave?”  “Someone who is looking for something”, replies Pike.  “Or someone.  Now you mentioned computer data from Mount Weather.  What do you have for me?”

                                                                                                                                        ~ * ~

                  Bellamy smiles, shoulders his pack, and walks quickly down the stairs to the stockade. “Reinhardt’s an idiot, but a useful idiot”, he thinks to himself.  Turning the corner, he drops his pack in a shadowed doorway, and continues to the door of the stockade.  “Open it”, he tells the two guards.  The doors open with a whoosh, and air rushes out, carrying the stink of sweat, unwashed bodies, and human excrement.  Eleven Grounders and one _Skaikru_ stand or sit in the central cage, refusing to look at him or acknowledge his presence.  All but one.  Lincoln stands tall, his shaved head showing stubble, his face expressionless but staring through Bellamy.  Bellamy wastes no time, getting close to the grate and speaking directly to Lincoln.  “There are twelve camps surrounding us, but they haven’t moved.  Why is that?”  Lincoln looks at him and says one word. “Octavia?”  “I have no idea where she is, but I’m going to find out.  But I need your help, I need to know what to expect.”  Bellamy laces his fingers through the grate, and says “Help me.  For her sake.”

                 Lincoln look at him, and nods once.  He asks, “what did the messenger say?  There would have been a messenger delivering the request.”  Bellamy looks at the ground, and tells Lincoln that they never got a chance to speak.  That Pike killed them both with shots to the head before they had a chance to deliver their message.  Every person in the room stopped moving when he tells this, almost all at once.  Lincoln has a look in his eyes, wild, feral eve.   As if he’s become a Reaper again.  “A messenger is promised safe conduct, no matter the conflict.  Pike ignores the most basic of our rules.  First, he destroys a peacekeeping force, and now kills messengers. _Heda_ would be within her rights to raze this whole encampment to the ground, and wipe _Skaikru_ from the land.  Your only chance is to get to the war chief and pray that he follows the rules.”  “Wait, peacekeepers?”  “That’s what they were.  They would have been sent to prevent conflict, until _Heda_ could have resolved any issues.  Killing them is not only an act of war, but a spit in her face.  One that must be answered, or she will look weak.”  Hearing this from Lincoln chills Bellamy to the core, and he realizes that there may be no easy way out of this.  Bellamy turns to leave, and Lincoln calls his name.  “Yeah?”, Bellamy asks.  “Hurry”, says Lincoln.  “There’s no telling what Pike will do next, and each move is getting worse than the last.  My people are not known for their patience.  Or their mercy.”

                  Bellamy turned to leave, and Kane takes Lincolns place at the grate. If not for the style of his clothing, Bellamy realizes, the former chancellor could easily be mistaken for a Grounder.  His beard is untrimmed, his hair slightly ragged, and his clothing…well, not all the smell is coming from the Grounders.  “Any news, Bellamy?”, Kane asks.  Bellamy considers the man before him, imprisoned for speaking out against the Chancellor and attempting to warn the Grounder Army that Pike and 12 others were advancing on their position with guns and grenades.  Kane never got to warn the Grounders, and the army was massacred, down to the last person.  One woman was left alive as a message: Leave _Skaikru_ alone or face the consequences.  Bellamy tells him what’s been going on, and his plans, and Kane nods, deep in thought.  Kane looks at him, and says “Pike’s going to get us all killed, but you know that already.  Knowing the _Trikru_ , they will want justice on the people responsible for the massacre, and the one who sent them.  We need to get them to Lexa, so she can call off whatever is going to happen, but we can’t do that from in here.  Whatever you’re thinking of doing, do it fast.”

                Bellamy retrieved his pack, and walked out of Arkadia, a bedsheet tied to a large pole held up in the air. His pace quickens and he looks at the shadows cast by the early morning sun.  He thinks that this wouldn’t be the dumbest thing that he’s done for his sister.  “My sister, my responsibility”, has been his mantra since he watched his mother give birth in their quarters, a rag clenched between her teeth to muffle the screams.  He’s been responsible for keeping her quiet, teaching her school lessons since she could never attend school, and warning her about inspections.  Hell, he even shot the Chancellor to get a spot with the 100 when they were exiled to Earth to see if it was survivable.  If it was, she would need her older brother to protect and guide her.  If it wasn’t, the Blake siblings would die together.  No reason why that should change now.


	4. Raven picks a side

                                                                Chapter 4 (Raven picks a side)

* * *

 

                Raven Reyes slapped the screwdriver down onto her worktable in the garage and let out a breath full of frustration. Her desk is a mish-mosh of wires, electric circuitry, and grenade parts.  She massages her lower back, her neck extended back and head looking up at the ceiling.  She’s been standing hunched over her desk for too long, and she’s paying for it now.  She can almost feel the muscle spasm growing, traveling down her back and towards her leg, fighting with the brace to deform her leg and twist it out.  She has work to do, so she refuses to use any of the pills that Dr. Abby Griffin has given her.  They help cut the pain, but they make it harder for her to think, and Raven knows that her strength is her mind.  That, and an amount of sheer stubbornness that can **almost** match Octavia Blake.  She is the best mechanic Arkadia has, and she knows it.  She sighs, the radio isn’t going to fix itself.  Her back twinges again, and she looks for the stool that she’s supposed to be using.  She finds it supporting Jaspers weight as he sits at another table, idly sifting through mounds of wires.  “Hey, that’s my chair”, she snaps at him.  He swivels around on it to face her, and if she couldn’t already smell the miasma of alcohol coming off of him, his red, bleary eyes tell the story.  He’s drunk again.  And at an hour so early that Raven isn’t even sure where he would have gotten the moonshine, since everyone else is still sleeping.

                 “Couldn’t sleep”, he slurs, almost knocking her over with his breath. “I keep dreaming...can’t dream.  Don’t wanna dream.”  He digs into his back pocket, and pulls out a small flask.  The effort nearly throws him off the stool, and Raven can see his hands trembling as he opens the flask.  “I think you’ve had enough of that”, she tells him as she takes the flask out of his hands.  “Gimme that back, bitch!!”, he snarls at her, making a grab for the flask.  The movement upsets his tenuous balance, and he falls off the stool, landing heavily on the ground.  “Go sleep it off, Jasper”, she gets out, disgust evident in her voice.  She looks around, lately his buddy Monty has been following him around, trying to keep him from pissing off the wrong person.

               “You don’t get it!!”, Jasper sobs. He turns his head to look at her, and with tears streaming from his eyes, he says “I can’t sleep.  I keep seeing them….her...every time I close my eyes.  I keep hearing her scream.  Why couldn’t Clarke have waited?? Why, Raven?? I could have ended it all, without anyone dying. I just needed a few more minutes.  Instead”, and his head hangs to the floor, “she couldn’t wait.  And she killed everyone.  Clarke killed MAYA!!!”  And with that shout, Jasper propels himself forwards, grabbing at Raven.  But even with the brace on her leg, Raven is still far more graceful than a clearly intoxicated Jasper, and she simply trips him and lets him fall to cry on the floor.

               “I don’t get it??” Rage fills Ravens voice, and she begins to advance on Jasper with every step. “Look at me, you crying little bitch!! I watched Clarke kill my only family, you ignorant little shit!! You think you’re the only person who has lost someone??  I nearly died, was shot, and I lost most of one of my legs, you pathetic little fuckstain.  Which one of YOUR legs did you lose, you pathetic pile of shit?? Oh wait, THERES MORE!!”  By now, Ravens face is red, spit flying from her mouth, and the volume has risen to near shrieking levels.  “Those precious Mountain Men that you’re mourning nearly killed Harper, DID kill a bunch of our friends, and drilled into me!!  Had enough yet, you coward?  And they killed thousands of Grounders for their blood, or turned them into Reapers.  You think you’re the only person who has lost something or someone here?? Get the fuck over yourself, and do it quickly.”  Now her voice has dropped to a dangerous growl, one more associated with a wolf than anything human.  “Because I’m starting to lose patience with your sorry ass. Pull yourself together, or get the fuck out.  Either way, I DON’T GIVE A RATS ASS!!”

               “Or what?” Jasper looks at her, with a sad smile. “Copy Clarke, and kill everyone who gets in your way?”  He pushes himself to his feet, and sways back and forth, sniffling back tears.  “What do you think is gonna happen when you stand in Clarkes way?  I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen.  She’s gonna waste you with all the thought that she gave Maya.  And I hope that I’m there to see the look on your face when it happens.”  He stumbles out of the mechanical garage, leaving behind a puddle of tears and snot on the floor, and the scent of alcohol and unwashed bodies.  Raven takes three steps after him, intent on beating him to a pulp, and then as quickly as her anger rises, it’s gone.  She knows that Jasper would welcome the beating as one more way to hide from his pain, and another reason why his problems are everyone else's fault.  Raven grabs a small container of bleach and pours it on the floor.  Not that she cares about the germs, but she has been finding Jasper distasteful recently.  She doesn’t want anything of his fouling her space.

              Floor cleaned, and stool reclaimed, Raven sits at her desk and unbuckles the brace that encircles her left leg from upper thigh to underneath her knee. Rubbing at the twisted scar tissue underneath, she twists, trying to find a position of comfort.  She starts from the bottom, working her way up, until she can feel the puckered ridge of scar tissue on her hip where Murphy shot her.  She flinches involuntarily, feeling once again the bullet go through the floor and deflect off of her hip.  It was lucky it did, she knows, because otherwise it would have hit the tank of rocket fuel she was standing in front of and would have incinerated everyone within 300 yards.  Murphy had been trying to kill Bellamy, she had been trying to save him, and afterwards Murphy had disappeared when Jaha did.  That’s ok, she thinks.  She looks over at a grenade that has a central position in the middle of the chaos of her desk.  It’s labeled: FOR MURPHYS ASS.  With a smiley face on it.  Looking at this usually brings her some comfort, but not this time.  For some reason, now it doesn’t. 

               She continues working on the radio, but her heart isn’t in it. As she massages her leg again, she hears a noise among one of the shelves of spare parts that she has salvaged.  “Anyone there?”, she calls.  There’s no answer.  “Jasper, if that’s you, I swear by all that’s holy that you’re gonna find out just how much ass this one legged mechanic can kick!!! You hear me??”  There’s no answer, just another noise, from another row over.  Raven mentally curses her love of old time horror movies.  Mount Weather had an incredible stash of movies, and she’s been devouring everything she could get her hands on.  Sadly, right now all those slasher movies were playing in her head, in full color, with her as the slashee.  She picks up a grenade, considers the blast radius, drops it and picks up an assault rifle.  She chambers a round, and the harsh sound fills the air.  “You have one more chance, moron.  Come out, and stop playing games.”  No answer.  Advancing close to the shelves, she scans them back and forth, but doesn’t see anything.  That’s when the bolt hits the top of her head.  From behind her.

               She turns around slowly, and lets out a laugh of happiness and relief. Sitting in her stool, her face darkened with face paint in _Trikru_ style is Octavia Blake.  She smiles at Raven, and wiggles her right hand.  “Miss me?” she asks, with an impish grin on her face.  Raven hobbles over to the desk and Octavia gets up and meets her halfway, hugging her intensely.  Raven marvels at the strength that this girl now has, clearly _Trikru_ living has been good to her. 

               “When did you- wait, HOW did you get in here? What are they teaching you out there, to be some freaky death ninja girl?”  Raven can’t believe that her friend is here, and that she made it into the camp, and the garage without anyone seeing.  Especially not dressed like that. In the dark, Octavia is all but invisible.  In the light…she stands out like a sore thumb.

               “Everyone here has their eyes so blinded by the lights, nobody realizes that people can scale walls and hide in shadows. It was easy, actually. Plus, I had the hole in the wall you showed me before.  Where are Lincoln and Bellamy?”  Octavia doesn’t stop looking around as she talks, her voice low, but easily heard.

                Raven sits down on the table, ignoring the twinge of pain from her leg.  “Pike has all the Trikru and Kane in the stockade.  At least he’s still feeding them, last time I checked.  If I remember correctly, there’s a ventilation shaft that runs up against the wall, the grate that it leads to is part of the wall and too thick to cut through, but you can talk through it.  Bellamy just went out with a white flag to the blockade to see what they want.  As for the rest of this place, since I’m assuming that’s why you’re here…”  Raven smirks as Octavia begins to stammer, saying that she would have come anyways.  “Oh please, O.” she says with a smile.  “You’re talking to the Boom girl, the youngest Zero-G mechanic in Ark history, and a bona-fide genius, if I say so myself.  It’s good, I get it.  You have responsibilities out there, and I’m happy that you’ve found your people at last.”  Raven begins to speak again, telling Octavia of the night that Pike got elected Chancellor, riding high on a wave of ‘Us. Vs. The Savages’.  How Arkadia, as enlightened and educated people, deserve and are owed their rightful share of the land.  That they are better than everyone else because of their technology.  Later, he and 12 others went out and massacred a force of 300 warriors that had set up camp near Arkadia, saying that this army was sent to attack Arkadia.

                Octavia Breaks in.  “He’s an idiot, Raven, and he’s gonna get you all killed.  That was a peacekeeper army, sent to prevent _Skaikru_ from getting killed by _Azgeda_.  By killing them, Pike sent the message that he’s declared war on the _Kongeda_.  This is bad, Raven.  Very, very bad.  I’ve seen how big the armies of the 12 clans are when combined, and Arkadia wouldn’t stand a chance.  What was his answer to the messengers?”

                Raven looks at her and says, “They never got the chance to deliver their message.  Pike killed them both on the spot, before they could speak.”  Octavia turns pale, and grits her teeth.  The rage is threatening to take over again, and Octavia repeats to herself that Raven is not to blame.  That Raven is her friend.  Breathing through her nose, she quickly regains control of herself.  Raven looks at her, and smiles.  “Wow, hot warrior chick.  I like it, glad to see that someone was able to teach you to rein in that temper of yours…” Raven trails off when she sees that Octavia isn’t joining in the banter.

                “Raven, do you remember what happened when Lexa thought that you had poisoned Gustus?”  Octavia sees Raven pale and rub the scar on her right arm where she had been cut before Clarke found the truth.  They had tied her to a tree and had taken turns cutting her open.  “People who kill messengers beg for what they did to you.  They usually get torn to shreds by their own village, so that Lexa knows that they acted on their own.  And I do mean shreds.  Shit.  This is bad, Raven.  Really really super bad.”

                Raven looks at her, and realizes that Octavia isn’t kidding.  There are some two and a half thousand people in Arkadia, and Raven has just been told that they could all be killed shortly.  “Wait, where’s Clarke in all this? Clarke wouldn’t let Lexa do this.  Have you spoken to her?”

                “Clarke was shot, Raven.  By someone who, get this, was trying to kill Murphy.  They missed Murphy and hit Clarke by accident.  She was ok when I left, but that was about 7 days ago, and anything could have changed.  Suffice it to say, Lexa doesn’t have Clarke there to convince her to be lenient with _Skaikru_.  If she is lenient, the other clans will start getting ideas and try to get away with shenanigans.” Octavia looks into the distance, gnawing on a fingernail, until she hears a snort of laughter from Raven. 

                “Shenanigans? Where did you get that one, O?”  Raven continues to laugh until Octavia joins in.  “I heard it on a movie here in Arkadia, and I’ve been waiting for an excuse to use it.” 

               “Well, I give you points for the usage, and for surprise factor. Now go and see your man, while I try to figure a way out of this mess.”  Raven grabs a spare tablet from a bin, and turns it on.  She fiddles with it for a few minutes, while Octavia wanders up and down the shelves.  Octavia sees the grenade on Ravens desks, and laughs.  Handing the tablet to Octavia, Raven shows her that the layout of the ducts for Arkadia have already been loaded onto it, and that it has a feature to tell her where she is. 

               “And since it isn’t registered”, Raven says, “nobody can use it to track you. You and I can use this to communicate with each other as well, via message or video.”  Raven leans over and hugs her, telling her to hug Clarke the next time she sees her.  “Go quickly, before someone sees you.”  Raven turns around, and hearing no footsteps, turns around again.  The area is empty.  “Frigging death ninja girl.”


	5. Bellamy takes a walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy takes a walk, Octavia sees Lincoln, and Clarke gets back on her feet.

                                                                                Chapter 5

                Bellamy walks through the woods, white flag held over his left shoulder.  He knows that he’s been spotted, because, well, he’s walking out in the open.  He may not have grown up on the ground, but after all the fighting that he’s done, he can recognize the sounds of careful stalking.  After what seems like a good distance from Arkadia, he stops and plants his flag in the ground.  Drinking from his canteen, he raises his voice and says, “My name is Bellamy Blake.  I’m the one who freed your people from their cages in Mount Weather.  I come in peace to speak to your leader.  Look, I have no weapons”, and he strips off his shirt to the skin, raising his arms and turning in a circle.  “I come as a messenger to speak to your _wormana_.”  He puts his shirt back on, and stands next to the flag.  This may take some time, he says to himself.  And maybe, just maybe, they have some information on Octavia.   Half an hour later, he sees a single Trikru warrior coming towards him.  The warrior stops, and motions that he wants Bellamy to follow him.  Hoisting his flag, Bellamy follows the lone warrior.

                The warrior doesn’t speak, and after what feels like a mile, simply points Bellamy in a direction.  Bellamy grunts at him, and continues walking.  He passes a fairly large tree, when a voice stops him.  “That’s far enough, _Belomi kom Skaikru._ ”  The voice belongs to a warrior who stands with his back to the large tree that Bellamy just passed.  “Any more and you cross the boundary, and everyone watching you takes turns making you into a _kwiloukou_.  What is it you want?” 

                Bellamy looks at him, and says, “how do you know my name?”  “I was in The Mountain, and I remember you running into the Room of Cages, and freeing us.  I remember you giving us the chance to die as warriors.  I now repay the favor.  What do you want?”

                Bellamy puts down the flag, and says, “I know that Arkadia is surrounded, and that right now we both are stuck.  We can’t get out, and you can’t get in.  What can we do to make this right?” 

                The warrior answers Bellamys question with some questions of his own. “Where are my messengers? They should have brought you the terms of your surrender.  Why have they not returned?” 

                Bellamy shrugs, glad that his lifetime of protecting Octavias existence has taught him to lie so well. Refusing to let the acrid taste of fear show on his face, he says with a straight face, “I have no idea, I never saw any messenger.  Chancellor Pike may have them in another part of Arkadia, I don’t know.  There are parts that even I’m not allowed to go.  I say again, what can we do to make this right?  There are innocent people in Arkadia who have no part in what happened.  For their sake, tell me what I can do.”

                The warrior looks at him, his gaze flat and his eyes full of hate. “The peacekeeping force your people killed was also innocent.  Where was your concern for them, _Skaiskrish_?  No, your people had none.  We won’t show mercy to anyone in Arkadia should we breach its gates, and we will.  Your only hope is to give up the murderers to _Hedas_ justice.  Do this, and perhaps she will not slaughter the rest of your people.  Do it not, and your village will lie in ruins, the bones of your people picked clean by the foxes.  Children will whimper in fear at tales of your end.  Choose well, _Belomi kom Skaikru._ ”  The warrior, who Bellamy now realizes is the warchief turns to leave, and Bellamy hurries after him.

                “Wait!! Have you seen _Okteivia kom Skaikru_?  Do you know anything about my sister? She was traveling with the Ambassador when you arrived.”  A note of frantic need has entered Bellamy’s voice, and the warchief looks back.  Bellamy makes a move to grab the warchiefs arm, and instantly theres a _thwack._ Two arrows embed themselves in the ground, 2 inches away from his foot. From two different directions.  Bellamy freezes, and the warchief looks over at him with a smirk.

                “What makes you think that I know what happens to every single Sky girl? Why would I waste my time?”  Upon hearing this, Bellamy reaches into a pocket and pulls out a creased photo of a smiling Octavia.  The warchief takes one look, and bursts out laughing.  “I’ve seen your sister, feisty _feisripa_ that she is.  She’s healthy, I can tell you that, and that you’ll probably see her sooner than you think.  Don’t worry, not one of us would dare harm  her.  My debt to you is paid, _Belomi kom Skaikru_.  Should your people develop the courage to do what is right, come out with the murderers tied to a log.  Until then, these woods belong to us.”  Bellamy begins the trek back to Arkadia, his mind creating plan after plan, and casting them aside.  What did the warchief mean about Octavia? And what disaster has Pike gotten them into?

                                                                                                ~ * ~

                Clarke wakes up to the feeling of a warm breeze caressing her face, and a delicious smell upon that breeze.  To say that this smell drew her from her bed would be the total truth, and she looks around her room to see if she is alone.  Interestingly enough, she sees that she is.  She’s also ravenous, and this is one of the first times that she’s been alone since she woke up.  Lexa has been hovering, worse than her mother.  “Great”, Clarke grumbled once after Lexa got her a cup of water from the nightstand within arms reach, “I’ve got my mother as a girlfriend.”  Lexa pouted for all of 3 minutes, and was then asking if she needed more furs, or the window opened, or another pillow, or more fresh fruit because the market was open andshecouldjustgodownquicklyandgetsomemore ….That had ended when Clarke faked falling asleep. Again.  The minute after Lexa had left, half the furs were on the floor, and Clarke had levered herself to a sitting position, hissing in pain when she twisted the wrong way.  That was yesterday, and Clarke was feeling stronger today.  And there was that smell…..Clarke followed her nose to a large bowl that sat steaming underneath the window, which she noted was open just enough for the wind to spread the smell around.  After carefully looking around, even whispering Lexas name to make sure she wasn’t there, or sleeping on the floor next to the bed, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed.  Clarke wonders if maybe she slept longer than she thought, since it definitely doesn’t hurt like it did yesterday.  “I hope I didn’t have another seizure, like, a month ago”, she thinks to herself. 

                Gingerly putting one foot down, she involuntarily gasps at the chill of the stone floor, and quickly puts both feet firmly down, determined to not give in. A wave of dizziness hits her just as she stands up, and she sways back and forth for a minute.  “Whoa”, she says, holding onto the bed for balance.  The dizziness passes, and she sees a carved piece of wood shaped like a cane just near enough the bed that she can reach it.  She grabs it, makes her way over to the bathroom, and uses it, enjoying the fact that she doesn’t need to go on a pan set in the bed.  That, to her, was one of the most humiliating things ever.  Worse than getting caught while she was making out with Finn.  Exiting the bathroom, she makes her way over to the table.  There’s  a bowl of broth, and Clarke can see small chunks of vegetables floating in it. And….oh spirits, is that meat? Clarke quickly fishes a small piece out, not even looking for a spoon.  She pops it in her mouth, and moans at the taste of the herbs and the soft rabbit meat.  She grabs the bowl, and begins to drink directly from it, using her fingers to scoop the more solid bits into her mouth.  So engrossed in the food is she, that she doesn’t even hear the door open. 

                 She lowers the empty bowl, when she hears a small chuckle from the door. She turns her head, and Lexa and Lora are standing there, watching her.  Lexa has her mouth open, like a thirsty man who sees water in the distance.  Lora has a wry smile on her face, looking over at Lexa.  She shoulder bumps Lexa, saying with a chuckle, “ _Din ai tel yu op? Em nou ste kwelen goufa. Em ste yu_ j _en krei meizen_.”  That’s when Clarke realizes that her nightshirt rode up while she was drinking…and she’s not wearing anything else.  “GAAAH”, shrieks Clarke, as she uses the bowl to cover her bottom as she tries to crouch behind the chair.  “Close the damn door, Lex!!!” hisses Clarke.  Lexa turns beet red as she realizes that anyone walking behind her may have just gotten treated to an eyeful, and she quickly ushers Lora in and closes the door.  By that time Clarke is back in bed, under the furs, and wishing that the floor could open up and swallow her whole.  That fact that these are two of the people responsible for keeping her alive, not to mention fed and cleaned while she was unconscious doesn’t really matter.  Or that Lexa has seen way more of her, which Clarke remembers with a very happy memory.

                 The memory is interrupted by a very firm hand, belonging to a fiercely blushing Lexa, pulling the furs back. “Lora needs to look at your wound, _ai niron._ ”  Her nightshirt is lifted up once again, but this time, everything below the waist is covered.  The bandages are removed, and the paste is scraped off.  Clarke stares at the ceiling as Lora looks at the wound, pinches the edge, and prods at it.  Clarke looks down, and sees something that’s nearly healed.  At the same time, she’s asking Clarke questions in Trigedasleng about how she’s feeling.  “Hungry”, Clarke answers.  “I’d love more of that soup, if I can get it”, and Clarke finishes with “with some pants on.” 

                 Lexa chuckles, and admits, “that soup is my favorite as well, ever since I was a child. I used to beg the cooks to make it for me when the vegetables were in season.  And”, she looks down shyly, “I loved the view.”  Before Clarke can do more than smile at Lexa, Lora pulls Lexa over toe a corner of the room and begins to speak rapidly to her.  Clarke can’t make out much of what she says, but one word that she keeps hearing over again is ‘ _Natblida’_.  Lora walks out of the room, deep in thought, while Lexa walks over to Clarke. 

                 “What’s that all about, Lexa? She’s coming back to dress my wound, right?”, asks Clarke while sitting up.  “She looked like there’s something wrong.”

                 “Wrong? Not wrong, Clarke. Just not something she was expecting to see. And that is the fact that you’re healing fast”, says Lexa.  “Faster than should be normal for this type of wound.  Most warriors with your injury would still be in bed, unable to walk.  You not only walk, but are able to eat and are….feisty.  She thinks that maybe when you received my _shadjus_ , you may have gotten some other benefits.  We Natblida tend to heal faster than most, and you’re healing just as fast, if not a bit faster.  That’s why you’ve been so hungry, we think.  We don’t have the science to figure out what’s going on, but your mother in Arkadia might.  But Lora said that you can begin to do more for yourself, and she wants you to get up and start walking more.  So what do you want to do, Clarke?”

               Clarke takes Lexas right in both of hers, and rubs it, while looking down. “I…I want”, she says while looking down.  She looks up as her right hand reaches up to cup Lexas cheek, and gives a blinding smile that lights up her face.  “I want more soup.”

                                                                               ~*~

               Octavia can smell the stockade before she gets there. The long-dead people who build the stations that comprised the Ark had planned for every eventuality, and large service corridors wormed through every station.  Using them to get from place to place would be childs play, she thinks.  The grate that looks into the room is about 8 feet off the ground, and the bars are set into the wall.  She looks at the opposite wall, which is about 4 feet away, and shrugs off her pack.  She jumps up a few times to look, but doesn’t see any guards in the room.  Jumping up and grabbing the bars, Octavia swings her legs up behind her and pushes against the wall with her legs, holding herself in place.  Threading her arms around the bars, Octavia looks in, and whispers, “Lincoln?” 

              A flurry of whispers breaks out, followed by a harsh whisper of “ _Shof Op!!_ ”  A quieter mutter breaks out, and suddenly Lincolns face is right in front of hers.  It weaves back and forth, and Octavia realizes that someone is holding him up at the knees.  He smiles at her, grabbing one of her hands, kissing and then smelling it.  The bristles on his face scratch against her hand, and she can see that his normally carefully shaven head is covered in stubble.  “ _Ai hodnes, ha yu kamp raun hir_?”  He asks as he looks at her, memorizing her face.

             “ _Heda_ sent me”, she says.  His eyebrows lift, clearly impressed.  She continues, the words tumbling out.  “I’m to infiltrate Arkadia, send her information back, and make myself useful.  What about you, we gotta get you out of there.  How can we open the doors? And why are there no guards in here?”

             “Octavia, we’re in a locked cage inside a locked room that’s controlled from outside, and they never get close enough for us to grab them. They haven’t been giving us enough food, so we’re all weak.  So why would they waste any guards on us, it’s not like we have anywhere to go.”  Upon hearing Kanes voice, Octavia realizes who is lifting Lincoln up.  “What else is going on out there, and what’s the plan?”

             “The plan is I talk to my brother, get you out of there, and get back to Clarke. Oh, and keep Pike from getting you all killed, and get him killed at the same time.  No big deal, right?”  Octavia answers lightly, not allowing her voice to betray her unease at how exactly all this is going to happen.  She is thankful that Indra made her balance on her forearms and toes for what seemed like hours at a time.  She doesn’t even know how long she’s been holding this position, but as long as she can look at Lincoln, she feels she could hold it for days.  “I’m gonna get you guys some knives or something, and some food.  So just stay strong, and I’ll be back later.”  She lets go of Lincolns arms, and drops back to the floor of the corridor.  She pulls out the tablet, and plans a route to Bellamys room.  As she leaves, she hears Lincoln say, “ _Ai hod yu in, Okteivia kom Skaikru.”_

            The journey to Bellamys room is fairly straightforward, with only one detour necessary to avoid a plumber working on a burst pipe. Seeing his room, she reflects.  His room is a mess, just like he is.  Clothing everywhere, and…ewww, what is growing on that plate??  Hearing footsteps coming down the corridor and stopping in front of his door, Octavia decides quickly to hide.  Giggling softly, she rolls under the bed, pushing away some dirty socks and a veritable horde of dust bunnies.  The door clicks open, followed by a pair of feet.  Holding her breath, Octavia waits until the feet are close enough, and then she pounces.

            Bellamy walks into his room after making back into camp, footsore and a little perturbed. So far he’s been able to avoid meeting Pike, or anyone else from the council, but the news about todays meeting got out.  People either are giving him a wide, 10 foot circle of space, or they are pestering him with questions about the Grounders.  Whatever, he decides.  He needs to figure out another way to find Octavia. But how, when she could literally be anywhere?  Without warning, a hand reaches out from under his bed and grabs his foot.  “GYYEEAAHHH!!!!”  Bellamy screams, while awkwardly hopping backwards trying to grab his gun.  His left foot hits a sock, which slides out from underneath him, and the next thing that Bellamy knows, he’s on his back, looking at the ceiling of his room with an aching head.  His sisters face pops into view over his, a shit eating grin on her face.

            “Hey big bro, Mom did always say that your lack of cleanliness was gonna get you killed. Glad to see that she was right.”  Octavias face lights up for a minute as she talks to him, and then turns serious again.  “We need to talk, Bell.”

            “O? Wait, what? Hold….Hold on a minute. Is that you? O, where have you been?”, Bellamy sputters, holding onto his head.  “I went out looking for you, and the _wormana_ said….”Bellamy trails off when he remembers that the _wormana_ never said  where he would see his sister.  He smiles for second at hearing the nickname that she gave him, one that he took for himself in the public eye as well.  When Octavia was a toddler, she had jumped on him when he’d gotten home from his lessons, yelling “Bell ride!! Bell ride!!” And he would give her a ride on his back.  She never stopped calling him Bell.  The smile disappears in a moment, as his mind starts working again.  “How did you get in? And what’re you doing here? And does anyone else know that you’re here?”

            “Chill, Bell. Nobody who doesn’t need to know that I’m here knows, and the people that DO know need to know. Lexa sent me to get information on what’s going on, so she can fix this mess….And it’s good to see you as well.”

            “Fix this mess!?! How is she going to do that without killing a bunch of people on both sides?  O, you don’t know Pike like I do.  He believes that he’s doing what’s right.  I mean , he really really believes it.  He’s not going down without a fight, and that fight is gonna get a lot of people killed.  You need to stay out of the way, or you’re gonna get hurt.  And besides, since when can we trust Lexa?  I distinctly  recall a plan involving her armies and we all know how THAT one went.”

              “Bell, I’m a warrior. Lexa or the others don’t care where I was born, only what I can do.  And I can do this.  You can’t stop me, so don’t even try.  And as for Lexa, she made a snap decision for what was best for her people.  We, at the time, weren’t her people, so she had no need to include us.  Now are you gonna help, or not?”  Octavias voice takes on the stubborn tone that Bellamy knows so well, the tone that says the other person has a better chance of flying by flapping their arms than of changing her mind.

             “Fine, if I can’t change your mind, I’ll help. Anything else isn’t gonna end well.  Let me help you save lives for a change, O.”  Bellamy begins pacing as he speaks, absently kicking dirty clothing out of his way, which Octavia watches with a wrinkled nose and a look of nausea.  Bellamy looks at her, looks at the clothing, and with a smile kicks it at her face.  Octavia laughs as she dodges the cloth missile, and for a minute brother and sister shadow box with each other.  The fight ends with the siblings using socks as _nunchucks_ , and laughing at each others antics.

             When the laughter dies down, brother and sister talk, scheme, and make plans. Bellamy tells her that he has access to the drone flight schedule, and he’ll arrange it so that she won’t get spotted by the drones.  Octavia will advise Lexa that there is resistance movement, and that they need time.  Time to grow, time to plan.  Time to save Arkadia from itself.  Octavia can’t help herself from yawning as she sits on the bed, as it’s been a very long day for her and she hasn’t sat down on a real bed in well over two weeks. 

            Bellamy locks the door from the inside, and braces a chair against the handle just to be sure. “You’re safe here, Octavia.  Rest now, I’m here.”  Octavia falls asleep with a smile, with the knowledge that her big brother is with her, and he would never let anything happen to her.

                                                                                                      ~ * ~

            Twilight has fallen in Polis. Clarke stands on the balcony outside Lexas room, enjoying the feeling of not being stuck in bed.   This balcony runs halfway around the tower, with the only entrance being from Lexas room.  There are a few wooden chairs scattered around the balcony, and Clarke realizes that they are set so that people can watch the sunrise, or the sunset depending on where they sit.  The air is still warm, but has a crisp coolness that hints at colder temperature to come.  The smell of the forest reaches her, coupled with the scent of the herbs that are growing in pots that are everywhere.  Pots of bloodroot and black cohosh near the infirmary, lavender and rosemary by the kitchens.  One of the cooks explained to her that herbs are used by both cooks and healers, so they try to grow as much as possible.  Clarke leans her arms in the balcony, and looks out into the distance.  She can feel divots and chunks of the stone missing, a testament to the skill of the long lost masons.  The sun is setting, and the sky is ablaze in color.  Red bleeds into pink, and that reaches into blue shading on violet in a way that makes her breath catch.  Not for the first time, she wishes she had stolen some paint from Mount Weather while she was there.

           “Beautiful, isn't it?” Lexas voice come from behind her, making her jump slightly.  Clarke hadn't heard her walk in.  “The view is incredible.”

           “I know”, Clarke answered. “I've never seen a sunset this amazing.”

           “I wasn't talking about the sunset, Clarke.” Lexas gaze is steady on Clarke's face as she stands next to her, both her arms on the balcony in the same position as Clarkes.  Her coat is off and in the room behind her,  leaving her in a pair of pants, and a black top that's half fabric, part fur and part chain mail.  Clarke can't look away, Lexa takes her breath away.  The sunlight paints her face in a golden red glow, and Lexa smiles as she stands and takes a deep breath.  One that Clarke notices as well for all the wonderful things it does with Lexas chest.  As Clarke watches Lexa, Lexas hand makes it's way over and lightly lands on top of hers.

           Clarke turns her hand over, and closes her fingers over Lexas, holding tight. Lexa looks down, visibly swallows, clearly not used to being close with anyone.  She looks up into the sunset, and Clarke is floored again.  She swears that this is a memory that she will hold onto forever...the sight of Lexa, violet sky behind her, pink sky in front of her.  The scent of lavender is in the air, and wood smoke.

            Lexa looks at her, and asks, “When you were living in space, did you ever see a sight like this?”

           “No, for two reasons. The first is that there's no atmosphere in space, nothing to refract the light or turn it colors. I've seen thunderstorms form over the ocean, and seen the flash of lightning in the clouds.  I’ve seen forest fires rage, and blacken parts of the land. But nothing ever like this.”

           “And the other reason?” Lexas voice is awed at the sights that Clarke must have seen.

           Clarke turns fully to Lexa, and takes her other hand in hers.  She slips into a tight embrace with Lexa, and rests her chin on Lexas shoulder, almost by her neck.  She can hear Lexa take a quick breath when she exhales onto Lexa.  Lexas neck is sensitive, something that Clarke knows and used to good effect.  “Because you weren't there, _ai hodnes._ ”  Clarke can't tell if the red in Lexas cheeks is her blushing, from the sunset, or something far more personal. 

          “Come inside and have dinner with me, Clarke.   And tell me more about your life among the stars. “

 

 _Kwiloukou_ = (quill coat) Porcupine

 _Skaiskrish=_ Sky shit

 _Feisripa=_ (face ripper) Tiger

 _Din ai tel yu op? Em nou ste kwelen goufa. Em ste yuj en krei meizen_ = Didn’t I tell you? She’s not a weak child. She is strong, and very beautiful.

 _Shadjus=_ (black blood) Night blood

 _Shof Op=_ Shut up.

 _Ai hodnes, ha yu kamp raun hir?=_ My love, how are you here?

 _Ai hod yu in, Okteivia kom Skaikru=_ I love you, Octavia of the Sky People.


	6. Clarke uses her head, not her heart

                                   

                Clarke and Lexa walk through the streets of Polis, enjoying the morning sun. It’s been 5 days since Lora saw her last and proclaimed her healed.  Lexa can’t get over the amount of food that Clarke ate during her convalescence.  Every time she looked, Clarke was either snacking, or slipping away to the kitchen.  Lexa can’t argue with the results, though.  Clarke walked beside her.  She _walked._ Lexas weapons make no noise as they walk, for Lexa is never unarmed, even in her own capitol.  Clarke walks with her sword on her back.  She’s still not used to wearing it, and she’s nearly strangled herself on it at least four times today.  Lexa still can’t believe that it’s real, even though the proof is walking next to her, waving to a group of children playing a short distance away.  The children wave back, and then run off to continue their play, shouting that they saw _Heda_ and _Wanheda._ Lexa hears Clarkes breath catch at hearing her moniker.

                Clarke feels her heart break upon hearing her nickname.  The street before her vanishes, replaced by a scene that she’s seen a million times in her nightmares.  She’s inside Mount Weather again, can smell the purified and scrubbed air.  Her hand is on the lever, pulling it down.  Just a small motion, not even a full foot of distance.  And just like that, she wiped out an entire civilization.  She killed them all, every last man, woman, child inside Mount Weather.  Granted, their leaders and scientists had been preying on the Grounders for years, making this almost a righteous act of vengeance.  But Clarke never even stopped to think of another solution.  She killed Dante Wallace, looking into his eyes and seeing their light flicker and go out.  She annihilated them all, and the cost broke her.  She ran off, surviving in the wilds for 3 months, trying to come to grips with herself and what she had done.  When the solitude got too much, or her supplies ran low, she went to a trading post.  That’s where she heard about _Wanheda_ , the Mountain Slayer.  Nobody connected the grungy, half starved hunter who didn’t speak to this warrior who, if stories could be believed, was 6 ½ feet tall and could kill a Reaper with 1 hand.  Not until Roan captured her, and brought her back to Lexa, did the world know that _Wanheda_ was this tiny blonde slip of a girl.

                Lexas hand on her shoulder jolts her into the here and now, out of the tunnels of The Mountain and into the warm sun.  She looks up, and sees Lexa looking down at her, concern and understanding filling her eyes.  “You’re not there anymore, Clarke”, she whispers. 

                “I know that!!” Clarke snaps back.  An instant later, she sighs, seeing the look of hurt in Lexas eyes.  “I’m sorry Lexa, I know you’re right.  It’s just…that name takes me back.  Seeing you leave with your army, me having to…do what I did. It’s all back.  And I know why you did it, but it still hurts.  It hurts so much.”

                “I know, _ai niron_.  But you mourn for no reason.  The Mountain Men were your enemy, and they were preying on your people and mine.  You acted as any warrior would, and removed your foe. Permanently.  There is no shame in it.  I may use a sword, and you a gun, but in this case you used the very world itself.  There is no shame in it.  One does not mourn their enemy, it is not the product of a strong mind.”  Lexa says this with conviction, almost as if she’s reciting a lesson.  “It will only cause you pain.”

                Clarke looks at her and whispers, “When will it end?”

                Lexa looks at her and says, “ _Taim yu gonplei ste odon_.  The pain never goes away, we simply grow stronger and able to bear it.  We do that, so our people don’t have to.  So they can raise their children without having to worry about being raided in the night, or where the next meal will come from.  Or who will deliver justice when it’s needed.  Now come, I have someone for you to meet.”  Lexa leads her to the same training field where the other warriors trained, and a large warrior who was sitting to the side stands up, and walks over.  He’s tall, like almost all the other Grounders that Clarke has met.  But he’s not bulky, just the opposite.  He’s lean, with none of the tattoos or braids that everyone else, Clarke included, has.  “This is Nitesa, Clarke.  He will train you when I am not able.  Heed his instructions as you would mine.  I will return.”  And with that, Lexa turns and walks back towards the tower.

                Clarke looks at Lexas back as she walks away, a hundred questions going through her mind.  She turns and looks at Nitesa, who has apparently lost interest in her and sits down.  She stares at him.  He stares at her.  After what felt like an hour of staring at him, Clarke raises her eyebrows.  She’s stared down more intimidating _Azgeda_ warriors before, this guy isn’t going to break her.  He begins to eat an apple.  She continues to stare.  She lives with Lexa, who’s the intimidation queen.  She’s not backing down.  He closes his eyes, and stretches out on the ground.  After another 10 minutes, she stamps her foot and huffs, “I thought we were supposed to be training!!  What are we doing?”

                He opens an eye, and looks at her.  “We’re working on your patience, _Wanheda_.  To use this weapon effectively and to the best of your ability, you must be patient.  To rush in is to lose any insight into your attacker, his patterns, how he or she strikes.  This weapon that you’ve chosen, it relies on agility and precision, but more importantly, it relies on you using your brain to spot a weakness and exploit it.  Now let me see you walk.”

                Clarke looks at him, trying to decide if he’s serious or not. Walk across a field?  She decides to humor him, if only for Lexas sake.  She walks across the field, and turning around, walks back to him.  He was watching her the whole time, Clarke realizes.  Intently.  “Are you done yet?” She asks him, folding her arms across her chest.

                “No, _Wanheda_.  If I wanted to watch you stomp across the field, I would have asked you to do that.  And if stomping was your intention, you should bind those better.”  He waves a hand in the direction of her chest, and Clarke feels her cheeks turning red and heating up to three hundred degrees.  “Now, let’s see you walk across the field. Walk, not stomp. Does _Skaikru_ have a different definition of walk than we do?”

                Clarke, at this point, is pissed.  Oh, she’s gonna learn this weapon, she vows to herself.  Just so that she can have the pleasure of one day knocking this smug fool on his ass.  Turning, she walks again across the field and back.  Looking at her again, he asks her to hold out her right arm.  Looking at it and walking around her, he says, “Your blade is the right size, at least.  Most warriors think that size matters.  It doesn’t, since the larger your blade is in relation to you the harder it is to control.  When you lose control, you give it to your opponent.”  He then slips her sword off her back, and wraps the scabbard and belt around her waist on the left side.  “Try drawing it now, it should be easier.  Carrying it on your back is for more seasoned warriors.  Start with basics.”  He watches as she draws the sword four or five times, and then he stops her with a raised hand.

                “What’s the problem?” Clarke asks with a puzzled look.  He walks behind her, and taking her left hand, places it onto the scabbard, and has her hold it in place as she draws it.  He steps back, and waves with a hand.  She draws again 4 or 5 times, and she has to admit, Nitesas instructions have made it easier.   She was actually glad that she had managed to draw the sword without cutting her hand, when Nitesa stops her again.  At this point, Clarke has gotten the idea that complaining to him is pointless, especially since he seems to be right most of the time. 

               “You will get a better position if you twist your hips when you are drawing”, he tells her. When she tries twisting to the right, he actually winces.  And for good reason, since she actually managed to make it harder to draw.  “Wait, _Wanheda_.”  He takes his place in front of her and draws his sword in slow motion.  Clarke can see that he twists his hips to the left halfway through, helping the blade clear the scabbard.  He repeats it three times, and then motions for her to copy him.  She faces him, and copies his motions five or six times, slowly growing more and more confident. He stops moving, and watches, occasionally correcting a small error until he is satisfied.  “Keep doing it correctly”, he tells her, sitting back down on the ground.  “Until you can do it without having to look at what you’re doing.”

                                                                            ~ * ~

                Lexa walks away from the field, thinking that it’s a good thing that she found Nitesa. She has a coalition to run, a war to win, and she can’t do that if she is training Clarke.  Plus, she would be too easy on her, too scared of hurting her.  Nitesa won’t have those issues.  Oh, he wouldn’t hurt her, at least not on purpose.  Ascending the steps of the Tower, Lexa goes in and up the elevator to the throne room.  She doesn’t even notice the guards or their obeisance anymore, they’ve become common to her since she Ascended.  “Bring him in”, she tells one of the door guards after she has seated herself on her throne.  He departs from the room without a word, and Lexa sits on the throne, stoking the fires of her anger, preparing for what is to come.  Titus is shown into the room, haggard, stubble showing on his face.  His robes, however, look freshly washed and clean, almost as if he had gambled on Lexa needing his counsel.

               " _Heda_. Thank you for seeing me.  It wasn’t what it looked like!!  I only wished to serve you to the best-“.  Lexa cuts him off with a raised hand.  “ _Yu nou spek daun gon yo Heda?”_ Titus pales, and quickly kneels.  No doubt he remembers what happened to the last person to show such an impertinence, thinks Lexa.  Thankfully nobody got hurt…well, except the impertinent Ambassador.  Leaving him kneeling, Lexa gets up, and descends to meet him.  “You are my Flamkeeper, and one of my chief advisors.  You will continue to advise me regarding everything except _Skaikru._ Unless I ask for your advice, they are off limits to you, seeing as how you have nothing but hate for them.  And another thing…”  She kneels next to him, barely noticing the involuntary twitch he gives upon having her so close to his ear.  “ _Klork kom Skaikru laik ai niron. Jomp em op en yu jomp ai op. Nami_?” 

               “ _Sha, Heda_. _Ai sonraun bilaik yun_.” 

               Lexa walks up to her throne, and sits in it. “Yes, Titus.  It is, and I’d like you to continue by my side.  Now rise, we have work to do.”  Lexa mentally gives a sigh of relief that this went as smoothly as is it did, and there was no quaver in her voice.  After all, it’s not every day that you threaten the life of the man who basically raised you.  “Bring in the first Ambassador.”

               It’s been three hours, and so far Lexa has worked on everything but her issue with _Skaikru_.  Two minor border issues, one small trade agreement between _Azgeda_ and _Podakru_ , and a small matter that _Floukru_ was having.  They needed more masts for their ships, and _Trikru_ land was the best place to get tree trunks tall enough for the purpose. _Trikru_ wanted more fish, salt, and other goods that only _Floukru_ provided, but getting them to agree was like trying to train an angry _bigaklau_.  It was then that a messenger came through the door, his sweat lined face and dirty clothing testimony to days of hard travel.  He bows his head, and hands a small packet to Lexa.  “The _wormana_ said that _Bandrona kom Skaikru_ could read it.” 

              “Rest, and get some food. You will be summoned when I have decided what to do”, she tells him. After he walks out of the room, she uses her dagger to open the skin wrapped package.

               A wrapped up skin falls out, and Lexa picks it up, unfolding it while she lifts it. There are words burned into it in a steady hand.  It’s a very well-kept secret that Lexa and Titus can read, they may be one of a handful of Grounders who can. _Fleimkepa_ are taught when they finish their training, and they teach the newly Ascended _Heda_.  Lexa reads the words that are there, most certainly done by _Okteivia_.  She wordlessly passes it to Titus, and paces for a minute, thinking.  She summons a runner, and sends for Clarke.  And she paces.

              Clarke arrives slightly winded, and with sweat running down her face. She apparently jogged most of the way back, with her sword on her hip.  The influence of Nitesa, no doubt.  Lexa approves, knowing that the more realistic the practice, the more prepared Clarke will be for a real fight.  “ _Heda_ , you summoned me? What can I do…” Clarkes voice trails off as she sees Titus.  “What. Is. He. Doing. Here?”  Clarkes voice seethes with rage as she stalks towards Titus, her upper lip is curled, and her sword is partially drawn.  Titus, for his part, shows some intelligence and backs away, holding his hands up and beseeching Lexa to help him.  Clarke followed his progress, speaking in English in a steady voice.  “First I’m going to cut the tendons of your legs, then your arms.  I’m gonna smash your fingers one by one, then cut them off, you piece of slime…”.  She’s cut off by Lexa grabbing her shoulder and whirling her around.  Clarke growls and tries to shake her grip off, but to no avail.  Lexa has a grip like iron.  “Lemme go, Lexa!! Lemme go, he nearly killed me!!”

              “I know, Clarke. I was there, remember? I know.  But this is not the time, we need him.”  Lexas eyes are not as calm as her voice is.  Pain is visible there, but Clarke is too enraged to see it.  “Calm down, Clarke.  Make this decision with your head, not your heart.”  Hearing those words makes Clarke look at Lexa sharply, remembering the last time she heard those words.  She stops, and Looks at Lexa.  “Trust me, _ai niron_.  He will never hurt you again, I promise.  But we need him, for only he knows how to pass the Flame to another _Natblida_.”  Hearing Lexa talk about her own death in such a calm way turns Clarkes anger down under a wave of fear.  She takes a deep breath, and releases her grip on the hilt of her sword, hearing it fall back into the scabbard.  “This is the time for your head, not heart, Clarke.  We have a bigger problem.  Tell her, Titus.”

             Clarke looks past Lexa, seeing Titus straighten and hide his hands in the large sleeves of his robes, like he used to before his fall from grace. “The leader of _Skaikru_ , your Chancellor Pike, killed the messengers that _Heda_ sent.  If she does nothing, she will invite more challengers to her rule.  While it’s not the usual way of things, _Heda_ CAN be deposed.  Much like Nia attempted, and you prevented.  And even though you stand with _Heda,_ the other clans will begin drawing back from the _Kongeda_ if she is seen to have favorites. _Heda_ must be impartial, that is the part of the basis of her rule.”  Titus stops talking, and looks at Lexa expectantly.

             Lexa sighs, and sits down on one of the steps leading up to her throne. “This is a challenge that needs to be answered, Clarke.  Not even a challenge, a blatant show of force that MUST be responded to.  In times past, entire villages were burned to the ground for such an offense if the perpetrator was not brought to justice.  Painful, drawn out, horrific justice that I don’t think your people can stomach.  As their ambassador, it’s up to you to plead for mercy.  What can you say in their defense?”  She holds the message out to Clarke, and Clarke takes it, scanning it quickly. 

             “Lexa, it looks like Pike did this on his own. There’s no reason to punish all of Arkadia for the actions of one person.  That’s the kind of thinking that got Pike elected in the first place, what he’s using to keep people scared of you.  We need to give O and Bell more time to get Pike deposed, and to make a plan to re-integrate _Skaikru_ into the _Kongeda_.  We just need time.”  She looks at Titus, and says, “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but what do you think, Titus?  I go towards one extreme, and you usually go towards the opposite side.  Maybe we can meet in the middle?”  She looks at Lexa and Titus staring at her as if she had suddenly sprouted wings, or a second head from her shoulders.  “What?  I never said that I like this little _mokskwama_ ”, and she sees Titus clench his jaw for a minute, “but nobody can say that he doesn’t have your best interests at the bottom of his cold, dead heart.  And he knows the Council better than I do.  And like you said Lexa, head over heart.”

             Titus clears his throat, and looks pensive for a minute. “ _Wanheda_ and I have had our differences, it’s true.  But just as I have your best interests in mind, I know she does as well.  She’s just irrational.  Perhaps we can come to a middle ground. _Heda_ must eliminate all challengers to her power.  This is a given, as is the fact that Pike and his followers must be eradicated.  You ask for time…”  He paces for a second, then stops.  “What if you and _Heda_ were there personally?  If you send the messenger now with orders for your spy, it will take at least 5 days for them to get there, yes?  Wait 2 days after sending the messenger, then ask the Council for more warriors to compensate for their weapons.  That will give you at least another day before they can make a decision, and since an army travels slowly, it will take at least 4 days to get here.  That gives you at least 10 days more to make plans.  What say you, _Heda_?”  Clarke is nodding at his suggestions, they make sense and they give her people time.  Lexa nods as well, and calls the messenger back.

            “Write your instructions to _Okteivia kom Skaikru, Wanheda_.  Titus, summon the Council and let them know we have new information.  We will meet just before sunset.”

                                                                          ~ * ~

            Octavia whispers a last goodbye to Lincoln, and slips back into the maintenance shaft.  The _wormana_ was  not happy to hear the news about his messengers, that's for sure. Octavia thought that he was gonna strike camp and attack right then and there, he looked so pissed.  Only the fact that he had strict orders to contain and not eradicate kept him from doing just that.  But what she was able to get, several times since she first reported to the _wormana,_ was a large pack of food for those in the stockade, and some weapons.  Nothing large, mostly knives.  But Lincoln got one that Octavia was tempted to keep for herself.  It curved sharply, almost like a leopards claw, and was wickedly sharp on the inner curve and half the outer curve.   In the hands of someone fast, like Lincoln, it was deadly.  Octavia had another idea, and after talking it over with Lincoln, she decided that it was worth a shot.  But she needed to be more…..visible.  And for that to work she needed Bell on board with it.  She made her way to his room, and once again snuck under his bed.  And then she took a nap.

            She woke up when she heard the door open, and she sees two sets of feet enter the room.  She hears Bellamy close the door, and put some music on, and then say, “ok, we can talk here, but quietly. Whats up, Harper?”

            “Pike suspects you, Bell. I heard him telling John Danritto to keep an eye on you. I don't think your room is bugged yet, but you need to be careful.  Pike has ears everywhere, and if he hears that it’s you asking questions and making comments, you’re gonna end up with Kane.  And you know what Pike has in store for them.  You need to be careful...I can't lose you too.” 

                “Suspects me of what, Harper? Pike is the chancellor, I would never go against him.  And besides, I haven’t done anything wrong.  The last time I checked, it wasn’t illegal to talk.”Bellamys tone is half-hearted, almost like he’s reading words off a script. 

               “Don’t be an idiot, Bell. And worse, don’t think that I’m an idiot either.  I know you didn’t agree with the team that went out that night.  I know you don’t agree with locking up the _Trikru_ or Kane.  I know what you’re doing with these questions, making people doubt the plan the Chancellor has.  My only question is: why didn’t you trust me enough to help?”

               “Harper, I-“  Octavia can see the two sets of feet face each other, and now the smaller pair rush forward and lift up on tip toe.  Some smacking noises ensue, making Octavia make a face as she imagines what’s going on.  Eeeeeewwwwww, someone’s _kissing_ Bell? Well, she has to stop this.  Just as she’s about to pop out from beneath the bed, the pairs of feet separate.  Harpers feet moved towards the door, and then came running back for one last kiss.

               “Don’t wait on your decision, Bell.  Pike won’t sit around and wait forever.  And neither will I.”  Harper closes the door behind her, and with Bellamys feet facing the door, Octavia uses the noise from the door to slip out and stand next to the bed.  When he’s halfway turned around, she speaks.

               “Harper, Bell? _HARPER_? Wow, you are so out of your league that it’s beyond funny.  I hope you know how incredible she is.”  To his credit, Bellamy flinches a little, but keeps his composure.  He rubs the back of his neck, and smiles a little.

              “Yea, she’s pretty awesome.  I had no--”  He looks at her and narrows his eyes.  “O, how long have you been in my room?”

              “Long enough to hear what’s going on out there, and that you need to be careful.  What did Harper mean when she said that you know what Pike has in store for the people in the stockade?  Tell me the truth, Bell.”  Octavias voice takes on that stubborn note again that he knows so well, the one that says that she’s not going to give up until he answers.

              “Pike is planning a very public execution in a few days, and he’s going to leave the bodies for those armies to find.  I don’t know what his plan is, but he wants to show how Skaikru is superior to the Grounders.  This is bullshit, O!!  Killing people doesn’t show that we’re superior, and it’s just going to make us look as bad as _Azgeda_..  I already have seven or eight people that I can trust in different Stations, and they are telling me that Pike is preparing for something.  I'm gonna try to find out more, but so far all I know is that it involves getting out of Arkadia.  How are things on your end? Any news from Lexa?”

              Octavia shakes her head, frowning. “The messenger should be back tonight or tomorrow, depending on if he’s planning on killing his horses.  I’ve lightly armed and fed the prisoners, so they’re stronger, and they can fight.  You know Lincoln will.  We just have to figure out how to get them out without letting anyone know it was us.”

             Bellamy thinks for a second, and then his face lights up. “Do you remember how you broke Lincoln out of the Dropship?”  When Octavia smiles and nods, he says, “Think we can do it again?”

                                 

 _Wanheda_ = Commander of Death.

 _Chof=_ Thanks.

 _Taim yu gonplei ste odon_ =  When your fight is over.

 _Yu nou spek daun gon yo Heda?=_ You don’t bow before your Commander?

 _Klork kom Skaikru laik ai niron.=_ Clarke of the Sky People is my lover.

 _Jomp em op en yu jomp ai op. Nami?=_  Attack her and you attack me. Get me?

 _Ai sonraun bilaik yun=_ My life is yours.

 _Podakru_ =  Lake People.

 _Floukru=_ Boat People.

 _Bigaklau=_ (big claws) Brown Bear.

 _Mokskwama=_ Worm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear your thoughts!! Leave me some comments here, or you can reach me at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/oaioal


	7. Clarke gets busy (in more than one way)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of you have been begging me for some Clexa smut, and here it is. Go easy on me, it's my first time trying to express a scene like this in words. As always, let me know what you think.

              It’s been two days since Lexa spoke to the council, since she sent the messenger back to the blockade.  Clarke is pretty sure that their plan has failed.  They had counted on the Council to do their usual job of deliberating and equivocating, with no clan willing to donate more warriors or supplies than any other.  In this case, the Ambassadors were so adamant that the _Skaikru_ rebellion be put down that they unanimously agreed with only 1 hour of deliberation.  They had all pledged an equal amount of everything, that very night, and that’s where the next snag hit.  Uzac, the Ambassador from _Yujleda_ , had what he thought was a great idea.  “Why have our _gonas_ meet here to travel, when they can just go to straight to Arkadia? The _wormana_ can determine where to send the warriors when they get there.”  All the others in the Council room nodded, and voiced their approval.  Clarke looked over with panic in her eyes at Lexa, hoping that Lexa will come up with some reason why this is a bad idea.  Lexa held her gaze for 2 seconds, and with a very subtle shake of her head, agreed with Uzacs idea.  And with that, they lost six days.  Later that evening, Clarke had rounded on Lexa, demanding to know why she hadn’t said anything.  Lexa looked at her and said, “I understand why you are upset, but hear me out.  From a military perspective, his idea makes sense.  Had I not agreed, t would have looked like I’m dragging my feet…which in this environment would not be wise for anyone.  And quite honestly, I don’t have any other ideas.”

                Since them, Clarke has been training steadily with Nitesa during the day, and spending sometime each night with the healers.  Until they can replace the machines that made healing effortless in the old world, Clarke realizes that she needs to learn Grounder methods of healing.  And that’s if those machines can be replaced.  All this learning and training means that she hasn’t had any time to spend with Lexa.  Truth be told, she’s not sure if she wants to right now.  She knows that it’s irrational, but she feels like Lexa should have done something to stop this, not sat there and agreed.  She also knows that it’s the safety of the _Kongeda_ against _Skaikru_ , and that one clan doesn’t outweigh all the rest.  Even so, she’s still pissed, and she’s been using that anger in her training.  Nitesa is impressed by the speed at which she has absorbed his training.  Clarke knows it’s no secret, its Lexa.  She replays in her mind Lexas duel with Roan, and the other times that she has seen Lexa spar.  She’s simply copying and learning from her, and Clarke has always been good at that.  She used to do it on the Ark, when she was helping her mother, the Chief Medical Officer, in the Medbay.  Today, Nitesa has been having her work with him on her parrying, and then on a pell.  The pell is basically a log set in the ground, and Nitesa has nailed various colored pieces of cloth in different sizes to it, all around.  He has been calling out colors, and watching her hit them.  Or attempt to hit them, since some of them are on the side of the pell and she has to slide and strike, or has to hit a high and low target in rapid succession.  It’s also not her real sword, but a heavier dull blade, which will make her stronger and faster once she gets used to its weight.  He calls a halt to the training and she lowers her sword, her arms shaking with fatigue after over 10 minutes of repeated sword blows.  He motions her over to the water pail, and she takes a dipper full, lifting it to her lips.  She takes small sips, conscious of how fast she is breathing, and slowing it by taking deeper breaths, another trick that Nitesa showed her. 

                After she is rested, Nitesa says “Again.”  She takes her position at the pell, and gets ready, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, sword held firmly in front of her.  Nitesa begins to call out colors, and she begins to strike, the wood making a hollow _thok_ every time it hits wood.  “Red!!” _Thok_.  “Blue”. _Thok_.  “Green, red!!” _Thok_ , step, _thok_.  “”Red, back!!” Clarke hits the red target, and pauses for a second to decipher what Nitesa said.  A blow to the back sends her reeling, and he says, “In a real fight, you need to be aware of everything that is going on around you.  Most warriors would have no issues stabbing you in the back, so you need to pay attention.  Always be moving, and always pay attention.  Now, parry. Just that, nothing else.”  Saying so, he steps towards her, hefting his own practice blade and begins attacking her.  His swings are not as fast as they could be, Clarke knows. She saw him cut a dragonfly in half two days ago, when he was demonstrating an advanced cut.  After a few minutes, his speed begins to increase, and then he begins to take steps to either side, forcing her to move with him.  His speed increases yet again, and now Clarke is hard pressed to block the blows.  Finally one slips though and hits her left leg with a solid and very painful _thwack_.  He takes a step back, his normally unreadable face open with surprise.

                “Surprised that you got a hit?  That’s why you’re the teacher here, and I’m learning.”  Clarkes hands are massaging her leg, and Clarke can feel a deep ache set in, harbinger of a fantastic bruise that she knows will bloom later today.

                “No, _Wanheda_.  I’m surprised that I had to work as hard as I did.  Can you stand?”  Nitesas sword is once again held ready, and he has copied her stance, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.  When Clarke nods her assent, he says “Good.  Now attack me.”  With a yell, she charges and swipes at him.  He parries the blow with ease, and says, “Sloppy, and now your fight is over. Try again, but remember to use your head.”  She approaches him, slower this time, and swings for his right leg, which again gets parried.  “it’s not an axe, _Wanheda_.  You’re not chopping wood with it, remember that your real blade has an edge to be used.  Again.”  She approaches him even slower this time, and begins to make careful attacks, one that he picks off with ease, but with nods of approval.  She takes a step back, realizes that she needs to be a bit closer to have better control. 

                “This isn’t like the sword fighting that I used to see on movies we watched on the Ark”, Clarke says. 

Nitesa lowers his sword, and says, “I don’t know what a _muve_ is, but describe the swords that were used.”  When Clarke is finished describing the sword that was her favorite, Nitesa nods.  “I know the type of sword you’re talking about,” he says, “and it’s vastly different.  That sword uses the point, and is used from medium distance.  You’re hoping to give a fatal stab, while not getting one yourself.  This weapon,” and he lifts his sword, “requires a closer distance, and a drawing slash.  When you learn it more, I’ll show you how to use the point as well.”  He looks up at the sun, and Clarke is startled to realize that the day is almost gone.  “Enough for today, _Wanheda_.  We will continue tomorrow. _Reshop_.” 

                Making her way to the Tower, Clarke climbs the steps into the Tower, but doesn’t take the rickety elevator at first.  She runs into the kitchen, and after waving to the head of the kitchen, a tattooed woman named Jijat, grabs some fruit, some meat and a small hunk of cheese to take to her room.  Seeing a passing servant, she asks for a bath to be drawn in her quarters.  By the time that she makes it upstairs, she can see that the wooden tub in the corner has been filled with hot water.  Pulling over a small table and setting her food down, she quickly undresses, noting with a frown the large bruise forming on her thigh.  Rummaging in a wood container near the tub, she throws a handful of leaves into the water.  The smell of roses, lavender and comfrey fill the room.  Feeling the water with a finger, she steps in, first with a hiss of discomfort, and then a blissful “ahhhhh” as she sinks all the way down to her neck.  She sits and basks in the warmth, slowly eating the food that is next to her.  All too soon, the food is gone, the fruit leaving a sweet aftertaste in her mouth.  She closes her eyes, and enjoys her bath, letting the stress of the last week float away.

                  She opens her eyes, and the sun has set.  The water is cold, and looking at her hands, she can see her fingers resemble the raisins that she had eaten once.  Getting out of the bath, she briskly dries herself, and gets into her pajamas.  Removing a plug from the bottom of the tub lets the water out and into a wheeled trough that sits underneath.  Pulling the slightly loose and frayed shorts up, she can see that the bruise isn't as bad as she thought it would be.  “Hmm, that herbal bath must have helped more than I thought.”  Turning to put her clothes away, she stops when she hears a light knock at the door.  Opening the door, she sees Lexa standing there.  She's still wearing her clothes, including her pauldron and sash. 

                   “I'm sorry, Clarke.  I didn't realize that you were going to sleep. I'll see you---”. Lexa stops talking when Clarke opens the door all the way and stands framed in the doorway.  Clarke motions for Lexa to come in, and closes the door.  Lexa takes a few steps into the room and folds her hands behind her.  She begins to babble as soon as the door is closed, about how she is sorry that she has been so busy, and how she hasn't been able to make time since there is so much to do before they leave for the blockade.  Clarke thinks that it’s adorable how Lexa only babbles when they are together, like Lexa is intimidated by her.  When Lexa turns around, Clarke has moved up to invade her personal space. 

                “So what are you trying to say, Lexa?” Clarke catches her bottom lip in between her teeth, and lets it go with a wet _plop._ Lexas eyes go directly to her lips, and her breath catches.  And that’s it.  Just one little breath, but that’s all Clarke needs.  She steps forward and holds Lexas face in her hands, and kisses her.  Her tongue swipes across Lexas lower lip once, asking for permission, and Lexas mouth opens.  The next kiss has Clarkes tongue in it, Lexas holding onto Clarke with a whispered _Klork_ when Clarke begins to kiss the side of Lexas neck.  Clarkes hands move up to Lexas head and tangle in her hair, holding it steady as Clarke begins to kiss Lexa again, while stepping backwards towards the bed.  There’s a thump as the pauldron and sash hit the floor.  By the second step, Lexas hands are holding onto Clarkes ass and she’s moaning into Clarkes mouth as their kiss deepens.  By the third step, Lexas is squeezing Clarkes ass and has managed to get her thigh in between Clarkes legs. Clarke moans when she feels the soft pressure on her center, can feel the wetness gathering, and she takes her hands and mouth off of Lexa long enough to get her shirt off.  Peppering her neck with kisses, Clarke unwinds the bandeau style bra that Lexa is wearing, pausing to bring her hands up and play with Lexas nipples.  She bends down and begins to suck on them, bringing them to diamond hard points while turning around, making lexa turn with her to keep the contact.  “ _Beja, Klork, beja_ , don’t stop!!”  Lexa breathes this out while both her hands are wrapped around Clarkes head, almost as if she’s holding on for balance.  Clarke can smell Lexas arousal, and it turns her on even more.  She stands up and kisses Lexa again, and then with a push, Lexa is down on her bed.

                Lexa falls into a sitting position on the bed, looking up at Clarkes face.  This was how they started the first time they were together, Lexa realizes.  Kissing, making love, and then Clarke got shot….Seeing the look on Lexas face, Clarke knows what she is thinking of.  Stripping her shirt off in one move, she straddles Lexa, and takes her head, kissing her once again.  “None of that now, the past is the past.  I’m here, you’re here.  Love me as I love you.”  Saying so, Clarke leads Lexas head to her breast, and Lexa begins to suck and lick on Clarkes right nipple.  Her hands come up and clasp Clarkes back, running up and down, marveling at the play of muscle underneath.  Lexa lets go of the turgid nipple, and moves to the other side.  Hearing Clarke moan turns Lexa on even more, and she redoubles her efforts.  Her hands wander down to Clarkes ass, and stay there for a bit, squeezing and kneading while she licks and sucks on Clarkes nipple.  “Ahhh, too much”, Clarke says, standing up and Lexas head slightly follow the nipple that was just in her mouth, trying not to let go.

                Clarke pushes Lexa down even further, and when she taps Lexas hips, Lexa lifts her hips so Clarke can take her pants off.  Clarke takes a moment to look at Lexa, spread on her bed.  Her skin glistens in the candlelight, her eyes sparkle with green fire, and her hair is fanned out around her head.  Clarke sears this image into her head, this is going to end up in her private portfolio, she thinks for a second.  She whispers “ _Krei meizen_. _Yu ste krei meizen, Leksa_.”  She kneels on the bed, and pulls down her shorts with one hand as the other hand supports her as she crawls over Lexa.  Their lips meet again, and when they part, Clarke begins to lick Lexas neck, watching Lexas body bow with pleasure.  She slips a finger in between Lexas folds, and feels the slick that’s already there.  Coating her finger in it, she begins to circle Lexas clit, while licking her earlobe.

                “Please….Please Clarke!!” Lexa whines with need.  Her hands are playing with her nipples, and her head is thrown back. 

                “Please what, Princess? Is there something you want?” Clarke smiles when she hears Lexa talk like this, it’s one of the most erotic things she’s ever heard.

                “Faster…faster”, Lexas pants out.  Clarke speeds up her movements, bending her head down once again to kiss Lexa, feeling her moan against her tongue.  Her arm starts to cramp, so Clarke goes down to an elbow.  With a shudder, Lexas pleasure spills over her, filling the room with her scent, and coating Clarkes finger.  Lexa pants for a few seconds, and then kisses Clarke again.  She grabs Clarkes wrists, and says, “my turn, _ai niron_.” 

                She rolls over, pulling Clarke with her, so that their positions are now reversed. She begins to lick her way down Clarkes body, from her mouth to her breasts.  She begins to lick first one nipple, then the other, alternating every few seconds.  Clarke has sensitive nipples, she’s learned, and too much isn’t a good thing.  She presses her mouth to the side of Clarkes left breast and begins to suck, leaving a red mark when she’s done.  She goes back to the nipples, only stopping when Clarke whispers that it’s too much.  She kisses and licks her way down, pausing at the spot where Clarke was shot, covering the small scar with kisses.  She slowly makes her way to the joining of Clarkes thighs, Clarke moaning and begging her not to stop.  The light is glistening on the fluid that’s already collected in between her thighs, looking like little jewels.  Lexa begins to lick and suck on Clarkes inner thighs, circling her sex, but avoiding it for now.  Goosebumps rise on Clarkes legs, and Lexa tries her best to lick each one.  She looks up with a smile as Clarke moans and arches her back, pushing herself at Lexas mouth.  Lexa obliges, and begins to lick slowly at Clarkes wetness, long strokes up and down, savoring her taste.  She uses two fingers to expose Clarkes clit, and gently licks the swollen bud.  She licks, alternating every few seconds with a small circle from her thumb, until Clarke is begging her, “Fuck me, Lexa. I need you inside me now!!”  Lexa curls a finger and slips it in, feeling for that spot that would— _ahhh,_ there it is.  She adds a finger, and watches as Clarke writhes on the bed.  Adding a third finger, she increases the tempo and feels Clarkes walls tighten around her fingers.  Leaning in, she flicks her tongue across Clarkes clit, and is rewarded with a shudder that runs through Clarkes body.  “Close, so close!!” Clarke whispers.  Two more licks is all it takes to make Clarke howl her orgasm to the stars.  She collapses into a sweaty heap on the bed, and Lexa crawls up her body and kisses her.

               Clarke puts an arm around Lexas neck, presses a kiss to her forehead, and takes a deep breath. The room smells like their love, they are both sweaty, out of breath, and Clarke has not been this happy in a very long time.  Looking at Lexa, she asks her, “What was it that you wanted when you came to my door?”

               Lexa smiles and says, “I had wanted to invite you to dine with me. I’ve been so busy and I didn’t want to think that I had forgotten about you.”  She looks down, and sees Clarkes thigh.  She asks, “Did you get that bruise during training??”  Clarke answers that she did, and Lexa responds. “A bruise now is a mistake that you won’t make during a real fight, so this will help keep you alive.”  She shimmys down, and kisses the bruise, and it’s so close to Clarkes core that Clarkes hips buck involuntarily. 

                Clarke says, “The food may be cold, but I’d love to spend time with you.  Lets go eat, and you can describe the Glowing forest again to me.”

                They spend a few hours, eating cold food, sharing stories of sights seen, and drinking warm ale.  By the next morning, Clarkes bruise is almost gone.

 

_Yujleda=_ Broad Leaf

_Gonas=_ warriors

_Reshop=_ Sleep well.

_Krei meizen=_ So beautiful.

_Yu ste krei meizen, Leksa=_ You are so beautiful, Lexa.


	8. Road trip, baby!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa take a road trip, plus someone overhears something he's not supposed to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to my newest beta-reader, Saint!! Theres a lot more Trigedasleng in this one, the translations are at the end of the chapter.

              The next morning, Clarke awakes to a flurry of activity in her room. Lexa is moving around with a purpose, giving rapid orders in Trigedasleng to a handmaiden while getting clothing together into a small pack. “Lexa, what's going on? Where are you going?”, Clarke asks in a befuddled tone.

              Lexa turns to her, holding a pair of pants.  “We, _ai niron._ We are going to Arkadia.  I need to see for myself what's going on there, and as _Bandrona kom Skaikru,_ you need to be there.  So we leave now, quietly.  I can get more done in this case without everyone knowing where I am.  Go wash, we leave shortly.”  Clarke pads into the small bathroom and splashes water on her face.  Running a wooden comb through her hair, she grimaces as it catches on some tangles.  She puts the comb down to work the tangles out, stopping to put some fresh mint leaves in her mouth.  Chewing on them, Clarke quickly works the tangles out.  When Clarke returns, Lexa hands her _Trikru_ style clothing to wear.  They are soft, worn and patched, but more comfortable than her other clothes.  A warriors mask is the last touch, and when Clarke turns around, Lexa is wearing similar garb.  The gear that normally sits on her brow is absent.  She's also covered with knives, has 2 swords crossed on her back, and what looks like a chain wrapped around her waist.  She notes in passing that the chain has what looks like razor edges on each link.  Lexa sees her look, and defensively says, “What? I just want to be prepared.  The chain is perfect as a weapon, or if…if we need some chain.”

                         “No bow?”, Clarke asks.  She straps her sword belt onto her waist, and looks at the locked cabinet where her gun was put.  Lexa looks down at the ground sheepishly grinning and whispers something.  “What's that, Lexa? I couldn't hear you.”, Clarke calls out with a grin.

                “I’m not good with a bow, Clarke.  You know this.  Why must you make me repeat it?” Lexa gives her a flat look that is part exasperation and part annoyed.  And it’s all Lexa, which Clarke thinks is adorable.  Clarke walks over to her, and kisses the tip of her nose, wrapping her arms around her. 

                “Because you’re so cute when you look like that”, Clarke says, kissing her nose again.  A tiny scuff sounds behind them, and Lexa looks over Clarkes shoulder at the handmaiden standing behind them.  Her hands are clasped in front of her, her head is down, and there’s a huge smile on her face.  Clarke guesses that this softer side of Lexa is not one that the other residents of the Tower have seen in a long while.

                “Is there anything you’d like to say?”  Lexas tone is soft, even questioning.  Clarke takes a second look at the handmaiden, and sees that she’s older than Lexa by a good number of years. 

                “ _Heda_ , I have served you since before your Ascension.  There was a time when your rooms rang with laughter, and you smiled.  Then the light went from your eyes, and the smile from your lips.  It brings joy to my heart, to the hearts of all those who love you, to see you smile once again.”  The handmaiden bows once more, and with a murmured, “ _Heda, Wanheda_ ”, leaves the room. 

                Clarke lets Lexa go, and turns around, as if making sure that she has everything.  Lexa busies herself with packing, until she hears Clarke say “There’s just….there’s just one other thing.”  It’s a small voice, a frightened voice.  The kind of voice that a scared child would speak in, and just hearing it hurts Lexas heart.  Lexa looks over at Clarke, who is staring at an open cabinet.

Clarke remembers the last time she saw this in action. She remembers the pain it caused, the fear that she would never see Lexa again.  Her hand is shaking, and her breath is coming fast and shallow.  The inside of the cabinet lays in shadow, but Lexa can just make out the handle of Clarkes _fayogon._ The same one that nearly took her life.  Lexa steps behind her, and runs her arms soothingly up and down Clarkes back.  Tears are forming in Clarkes eyes, threatening to spill over.  “You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, Clarke.  Leave it here if you want, it will wait for you to be ready.”

                “How long, Lexa? How long will it take?  This...it took something from me.  How long before I get it back?”  Clarkes voice is a broken whisper, a hint of a sob trying it’s best not to come out.

                “It will take as long as it takes.  One day at a time is how I got through the most traumatic time of my life.  Perhaps that how you can do it as well.”  Lexas voice is low and soothing, and she hugs Clarke from behind, pressing Clarkes back into her front.  She knows from personal, painful experience that some types of wounds take a long time to heal, even if they can no longer be seen.  “Remember that I’m here to help you heal, as well.  Feel free to lean on me.”

                Clarke takes a deep breath, and releases it.  She wipes her eyes with her sleeves, and says, “It stays here.  But, I need to make sure that nobody else is hurt by it.”  Lexa lets her go, unsure what Clarke plans to do to render it harmless.  Clarke takes it out, pops the magazine out, and then racks the slide, emptying the chamber of the bullet that was there.  She replaces the gun, safety on, back in the cabinet.  She grabs a shirt from the dresser, wiping her fingers before tossing it into the cabinet and covering the gun.  She crosses the room, and grabs a small pouch, emptying its contents onto the bed.  She fills it with the bullets, and then hides it in a corner of the couch.  “Wait, if you’re going to Arkadia, who’s gonna be in charge here?”

                “I have given Titus orders, this isn’t the first time that he has kept the Coalition running while I was busy elsewhere.  It actually works out well, since he can control the ambassadors, and they usually  can’t agree on whether it’s raining or not.  I wouldn’t mind kicking them all off of the Tower…”  Lexa trails off into thought, and lets out a small laugh.  No doubt imaging her life without these particular ambassadors, Clarke muses.  Lexa sees her looking and asks, “Not again, anyways.  He was…..difficult to clean up off the ground.  Anyways, ready to go?”  When Clarke nods, Lexa smiles and puts her mask on, and motions for Clarke to do the same.  With the mask on, all Clarke can see above the boars tusks and leather is Lexas eyes.  Her forest green eyes, looking at Clarke and sending her warmth and strength.  Clarke looks around the room, and nods at Lexa. 

                Lexa opens the door, and steps out into the hallway.  There are four hulking masked warriors standing there, and without a word they all begin walking down the hall.  They take a back route down through the Tower, bypassing the main stairs and hallways in favor of ladders that are tied to the outside of the Tower, and crumbling emergency stairwells.  Lexa stops at one unmarked doorway, and bangs on it in a distinct pattern, then keeps going.  She sees Clarke looking, and says “If you don’t give a signal, the stairs on the level above and below us collapse.  The _Heda_ before me was scared of uninvited guests.”  They finally arrive on the ground floor, and there are horses there for everyone, loaded for a journey.  “As you say, Clarke, let’s hit the road.”

                                                                                      ~ * ~

                Raven has had some nerve wracking days before, like waiting for her Zero-g clearance, building and using her escape pod.  But this is different.  Octavia contacting her, and asking her to disable the electrical fence is one thing.  That she’s done before, multiple times.  But when Octavia asked her to find a sympathetic person in the kitchen...well, that was a warrior of a different clan.  And that’s when she remembered Mel, the girl that Bellamy had rescued off of the cliff.  Bellamy had saved her from falling to her death when her part of the ark opened up mid-landing, spilling people out over the ground.  Sounding her loyalties out was astonishingly easy.  The minute Bellamy had said “I need your help”, Mel had practically knelt and swore allegiance.  Why they needed someone in the kitchens, Raven still had no idea.  But that was a smaller problem.

                The bigger problem was that the mines were gone.  All of them, and Raven has no idea where they were placed, or in what pattern.  She knew that they had been deployed because of the deer incident.  A deer was running across empty space in front of Arkadia and it must have stepped on one.  Raven was kinda jealous of the BOOM that rocked the camp.  Sadly, the deer was inedible, which sort of put a damper on things.  The biggest problem, though, was the fact that they had no way to communicate with Clarke in real time, so they were blind to what the third faction in this mess was doing.  Like Raven learned when they were fighting Mount Weather, knowing what your allies were doing was a major bonus.  Knowing what your enemy was doing without them knowing you were doing it? Wars were won for that reason.

                “Where is she, Raven?? She said she would be here almost twenty minutes ago.”  Bellamy is pacing, he really doesn’t like it when Octavia isn’t on time.  He keeps having mental images of her stuck in the stockade with Lincoln, or worse, stood against a post by Pike and shot.  Bellamy isn’t quite sure how Clarke managed to do all this planning and still remain calm. Or sane, he’s not too sure about that either.  “I can’t stay for long, I have guard duty, and I can’t be late”, he says, turning around the table to pace by Raven yet _again._

                “Calm down, Bell.  I’m here.”  Octavia walks out from behind a shelf of spare engine parts, her face paint free.  “What did I miss?”

                “Oh, not much, O.  Just letting the rest of in on your entire frigging plan!!  How about we do that?  Oh, and be on time, cuz I’m not sure that your brother here can take the stress”, says Raven.  Her voice, while sarcastic at the beginning, gains a level of calm at the end.  Octavia protests that she HAS, in fact, let everyone in on what the plan is, and then when Raven shakes her head, realizes that they left Raven out of the loop.

                “Shit, Raven, I’m sorry.  I thought that Bell had told you.  So here’s the first part of the plan.  I have the _wormana_ gathering _jobi_ nuts.  We let them get rancid, then sneak them into the kitchen.  Mel puts them into the food that is given to the guards stationed by the Grounders, and we let them out while the guards are all looking at the butterfly lights.  You cut the power to the fence, and I lead them out to the forest.  No more hostages, and we make Pike look incompetent at the same time.” 

                Raven remembers what happened the first time the 100 had eaten rancid _jobi_ nuts.  The whole camp had hallucinated for half a day, and then been practically comatose for another 12 hours.  That was the perfect time for Octavia to break Lincoln out of captivity in the Dropship, and it worked really really well.  “Ok, that’s great for the Grounders.  How about the rest of your plan?”

                “Well, that’s umm….kinda it for now.  Clarke is going to be here in a week or so with Lexa, and more soldiers.  Once they get here, we can figure out our next move.  I’m sure that Clarke has an idea, and I’m sure that I’m gonna hate it.  It also gives us time to emphasize Pikes incompetence and unsuitability to be in charge.  His whole thing was “I’m the only one that can keep you safe.”  If we can prove that he can’t, then we can start trying to get people to call for a special election.  While we’re waiting, see if you can come up with anything else, and I’m gonna see if I can get any information about the mines.  An army outside our gates isn’t gonna help if they can’t get inside the gates.  See you all later.”  With that, Bellamy hoists his gun and leaves the garage, leaving Raven and Octavia to talk amongst themselves. 

                From underneath one of the Rovers, Jasper hears everything.  He had crawled into one of the service bays to sleep, and the voices woke him up.  “Clarke is coming back”, he thinks.  “Well, won’t I be able to give her a warm welcome.”  He rolls over and sleep claims him, but this time there are no dreams.

                                                                                                            ~ * ~

                It was a pleasant two days since they left Polis, and Clarke was enjoying the trip.  Getting out of the city had been easy, nobody had given a second look to the patrol of six guards that had rode out of one of the main gates.  The other four guards had turned back once they were out of sight of the city, leaving Lexa and Clarke to continue on their own.  They had traveled at a steady pace of walk-canter-trot, one that the horses were easily able to keep and so they made very good time.  On the third day, reality struck.

                One minute they were riding through the woods, just the two of them, the next minute 4 men are standing in the middle of the road.  Three are in the middle, and one with a bow is off to the side.  The one in front steps forward, a smile showing off a number of rotting teeth.  “ _Monin”_ , he says.  Clarke can see that the men behind him have their hands on their weapons, clearly expecting a fight.

                “ _Monin_ ”, Lexa answers.  “ _Chit yu gaf_?”  Clarke knows that Lexa has seen it also, since her hand slowly slides towards the hilt of a throwing knife.

                “ _Yu gapa, yu bakkova, yu stepa, en shuda. Osir gaf emo in_.”  The demand is said with a smile, as if robbing them was something pleasant.  Lexas horse nickers, and takes another step to the side.  Lexa uses the movement to hide her drawing a throwing knife.

                “ _En taim ai biyo nou_?”  Lexa says this in a soft, calm voice.  Anyone who knows her knows that this is how she sounds when she’s at her most pissed off, and dangerous.

                “ _Osir sis emo op idowe_ ”, is the answer she receives.  Lexa nods, and then with a smooth motion raises her arm and drops it, sending a knife hurtling into the chest of the bowman.  He grabs at it, and sinks to his knees.  Her horse rears, and kicks it’s hooves into the air in front of it.  Lexa uses the movement to free her feet from the stirrups, and is off the horse the minute it’s back down.  The leader is yelling “ _Frag em op_!!”  She looks back, but sees that Clarke already had the same idea, and is off her horse and coming up with her sword drawn.  And that’s all she has time to see before she is attacked by the leader and one other bandit.  She draws her swords, and begins to fight.

                Clarke sees her opponent coming towards her, and she takes her stance, and waits for him to come to her.  He grins, looking her up and down.  “ _Ai na sis yu op fou ai frag yu op_ ”, he tells her.  When she simply stares at him, he yells, and charges the last five feet, swinging at her side.  She parries, feeling the shock travel up her arm, but nowhere near as bad as she thought it would be.  Nitesa apparently wasn’t holding back they were training together.  He swings again, this time at her head, and she parries again, and then again.  His blows are telegraphed, and he’s trading speed for power.  On his next swing, she parries, and then ripostes with a flicking motion.  Her steel bites deep, and redness begins to drip down his right arm, and he hisses in pain.  He takes three steps back, and she advances two steps, sword ready.  He yells again, and charges her, swinging his sword.  She takes a step to the left while ducking, and cuts across her opponents stomach.  He stops, and drops his sword while trying to stop his insides from coming out.  He takes 2 more steps, then falls to the ground.  “ _Beja, ai beja yu daun_ ”, he gasps out. “ _Ai nou na wan op_.”  She looks down, and then with a swift motion, draws the blade across his neck.  “ _Yu gonplei ste odon_ ”, she whispers. 

             She turns to see how Lexa is doing, and sees Lexa standing there, both of her opponents down already. Clarke walks towards her, hands shaking.  Lexa meets her halfway, running her hands over Clarkes body.  “Are you injured?  I don’t see any blood, _ai niron_ , are you injured?”  Lexa sounds frantic, and she breathes a sigh of relief when Clarke shakes her head.  Lexa notices her staring at her hands, and holds them, feeling them tremble.  “It’s battle sickness, all our warriors get that their first few fights.  You may even--”  Lexa stops talking as Clarke runs to the side of the path and begins to vomit noisily into the bushes.  ”--vomit”, she finishes.  She crosses to Clarke, and holds her hair back as Clarke continues to empty the contents of her stomach.  When Clarke finishes, Lexa is waiting with a skin of water for her to wash her mouth with.  “Are you well?”, she asks Clarke.  When Clarke nods, Lexa looks in her eyes, and pulls her close for a quick, fierce hug.  Whistling loudly, both horses trot back to Lexa.  “ _Ingrarona_ trained horses.  No better horse trainers in all the lands”, Lexa explains to Clarke.  Crossing to the fallen archer, she yanks her knife out of his chest, calmly slits his throat, and cleans the knife on his clothing.  “Clean your blade before you sheathe it, Clarke.  A dirty blade is an untrustworthy blade.”  Lexa says this while pulling the body of the archer over to where the other two bandits are lying.  Dumping the body, she asks Clarke, “Will you help me with this? We shouldn't leave them laying all over the road.  We’ll tell the next village we get to, they could use the extra clothes.”

             The rest of the day is passed in silence, Clarke answering most questions in curt one word answers. Lexa knows that this is not the first time that Clarke has killed, so she’s not sure what the problem is.  There was one of Anyas warriors, the three hundred warriors she burned alive, Finn, Dante Wallace; Lexa isn’t really sure why Clarke is withdrawing from her, but trusts that Clarke will tell her when she is ready.

             Later that evening, Lexa looks over at Clarke. Lexa moves over, and looks at her.  She says, “What’s wrong, Clarke?”

             Clarke looks at her, past her, and speaks. “I feel nothing for the man I killed.  No sadness, no hate.  I just did it, like throwing out a potato peel.  Why is that?  Am I such a monster that I don’t care anymore? That I can just take a life and feel nothing?”  Tears glimmer in her eyes, but her voice is calm.

            “Oh Clarke, there’s nothing wrong with you. You feel nothing because you did nothing wrong.  That man came at you, intending to kill you.  When he did, he gave you permission to stop him, and end his fight.  You grieve for those who you feel you didn’t need to kill.  Monsters don’t do that, they feel nothing for anyone other than themselves.  You are not a monster Clarke.  You’re a warrior, same as I.  Now rest, I’ll take first watch.”  Lexa shifts outwards, putting her back to the fire as Clarke lays down and wraps herself in her blanket.  Sleep is a long time coming.

 

 

 _fayogon=_ Firegun (firearm).

 _Monin=_ Greetings.

 _Chit yu gaf_? = What do you want?

 _Yu gapa, yu bakkova, yu stepa, en shuda. Osir gaf emo in=_ Your horse, your clothes, your shoes, and weapons.  We want them.

 _En taim ai biyo nou=_ And if I say no?

 _Osir sis emo op idowe=_ We take them anyway.

 _Frag em op=_ Kill them.

 _Ai na sis yu op fou ai frag yu op=_ I’m going to take you before i kill you.

 _Beja, ai beja yu daun=_ Please, I beg you.

 _Ai nou na wan op=_ I don’t want to die.


	9. Jasper picks a side, and the legend of Wanheda grows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaspers a dick. The hugest dick to ever be a dick.

                                                                Chapter 9

                “Chancellor Pike?  There a young man out here to see you, he says that he urgently needs to speak with you.”  The aides voice sounds over the intercom, distracting Pike from the datasheets that he’s been poring over.  This is the second visit that he’s had today, and while he’s not happy about the distraction, he’s happy to get away from the tedious reports that he has to read.  His first visit was from Abby Griffin, Chief Medical Officer, and it was a whole lot of shouting on her part.  Frankly, it makes sense now why Jake Griffin didn’t fight when he was about to get floated.  He was probably running away from Abby.  In addition to yelling about the health of the prisoners, she started yelling about the lack of protein in Arkadias diet.  As if it’s his fault that they can’t go out and hunt. 

                “Come on Charles, you were the Earth Skills teacher!!” At this point in her tirade, she was red in the face.  “You know what happens when people overhunt an area.  THE ANIMALS LEAVE!!  We have pregnant women here now, and we need better food.  The diet that we have now has minimal protein in it, our fighters are going to get weak, babies will have developmental delays and birth defects.  So what’s your plan?”  She stopped pacing, and braced both her hands on the back of a chair.  “What .  Is.  The.  Plan??”

                He tried to explain to her the plan, he really did, he thinks.  It’s not his fault that she had no faith in their soldiers ability to defeat this pitiful “blockade”, or their Chancellor to lead them to victory.  After the yelling had stopped, he had sent her back to the Medbay with a strongly worded warning that he would only tolerate so much dissent.  As soon as she left, he reached into his desk drawer, and slowly pulled out some items in what was becoming a daily ritual.  A tin of acetaminophen, one of the last that he was able to procure.  A large bottle of the finest moonshine that Monty Green had ever made. And a picture of some of the families that lived in Farm Station.  Most of them had survived the crash into Ice Nation territory, but not the Ice Nation.  His resolve bolstered by the faces of those the Grounders had killed, he took a shot of moonshine to wash down the bitter medicine.  He had continued to attempt to get some work done, until his aide had informed him about this second, unscheduled meeting.  He contemplated having his aide refuse this young man, but he shook his head.  He couldn’t take his frustrations out on one of his people, and this person obviously felt they needed their Chancellor.

                He takes a deep breath, and answers his aide.  “Send him in, please”, he instructs.  The door opens, and in walks Jasper.  His hands shake, and he stumbles a little while walking across the room, but his gaze is remarkably clear.  Pike knows that this is an impressive feat, considering that Jasper had singlehandedly polished off an entire batch of moonshine within one week.  “Yes, Jasper, what can I do for you?”  His voice is calm, quiet, even though inside he is dying to know what could possibly be keeping Jasper sober at this time of the morning.

                “Well, Mr. Chancellor, Sir, it’s like this.  Clarke Griffin is coming back to Arkadia, and she's gonna depose you.”  Seeing the Chancellors eyebrows raise, Jasper starts speaking faster. “I was sleeping in the garage and I heard them talking about releasing the prisoners and Clarke was coming back and I knew that you needed to know. So how are we going to stop this bitch?”

                  Pikes mind is whirling with thought.  One the one hand, this kid is a known alcoholic who, on a good day, couldn't piss in the toilet if he was sitting on it.  On the other, everyone knew that Griffin had some messiah complex, along with a Grounder fascination.  He realizes that there’s a really easy way to figure out if Jasper is telling the truth, or just relating some alcohol soaked dream he had.  Let it happen, his mind whispers, and see who truly follows you.  Plan decided, he leans back and folds his hands over his stomach.  “Thank you, Jasper.  I’ll take it under advisement, and if you’re right, I’ll need your help to stop Clarke.”  Jasper smiles, and it’s a gleeful, not completely sane smile.  Pike realizes that this kid is a rabid animal, aimed solely at Clarke Griffin.  If he was handled the right way, Pike muses, he would tear through anything to get to Clarke, and thank whoever was holding his leash.

                He stands to shake Jaspers hand, when his intercom buzzes again.  “Sir, you’re needed by the main gate immediately.”  Pike frowns, but hurries out of the room and out the airlock that serves as a door to the Admin section of Arkadia.  He pushes his way through the crowd that’s already formed and see’s Bellamy Blake talking to his Grounder loving sister.  She’s standing next to her horse, which has a travois hitched to it.  Just looking at the tangle of limbs on it is enough to tell that she brought more than one animal.  “Who gave you permission to enter here, Octavia?  I never gave an order to open the gate for you.”  His voice is stern, and he stands with his arms over his chest, the very image of a furious leader.  He’s pointedly avoiding Jaspers frantic efforts to get his attention. 

                “Sir, that would be me.  She’s my sister, and I can vouch that she’s not a traitor.”  Bellamys voice is earnest, and he’s looking at Pike with those puppy-dog eyes.  “Plus, didn’t you say that we needed to expand our hunting grounds? She can do that.  She’s not a traitor, I swear it, Sir.”  Octavia opens her mouth to say something, and Bellamy grabs her arm, preventing her from speaking.

                “Fine, Blake.  But if I catch her anywhere near the stockade, she’s gonna join the prisoners in there.  She’s your sister, she’s your responsibility.”  Pike turns, and walks away with a terse “Let’s go, Jasper.”  A group of Arkers swarm over the travois, excitedly carting the deer away to the kitchens to be cooked, chattering to each other.  Pike turns, and Jasper hasn’t moved, staring at Octavia with hate on his face.  “Now, Jasper.”  There’s enough steel in those two words to build another Ark, and Jasper turns and trots towards Pike.  Another few steps, and Pike turns towards Jasper.  “Work with me son, not against me.  You’ll get your chance, trust me.”  He walks to his office, sits down, and begins to think.

                                                                                ~ * ~

                Clarke and Lexa make good time to the main blockade encampment, passing unchallenged to the _wormanas_ tent.  Their journey was uneventful, except for the one fight.  They stopped traveling every few hours for Lexa to instruct Clarke more in the use of her sword, or throwing knives.  Her instruction methods are different than Nitesa.  For one thing, she stands behind Clarke and holds her arms to correct angles.  She stands so close to Clarke that her breath tickles her ear, making Clarke feel a rush of arousal, and making her concentration even worse.  This leads to a cessation of the sword practice for a different type of exercise, which both parties find to be satisfactory, if not slightly uncomfortable.  After all, the forest floor isn’t the softest place to have a tryst, but Clarke thinks that you work with you have. 

              There were other issues. Lexa learned the hard way to never, ever, ever under any circumstances allow Clarke to cook.  Clarke pouted when she heard Lexa attempt to vomit discreetly into the bushes, giving Lexa the cold shoulder for almost half an hour.  Her excuse was that there was no need to cook on the Ark, since they didn’t have different types of food.  They had a sort of bean paste that was mixed with an engineered strain of mushroom, some lab grown amino acids, and algae.  They never had spices, because there was no place to grow them.  Lexa immediately vowed that Clarke would help in the kitchen and learn how to not poison anyone ever again.  The shoving match that ensued turned into another make out session, after which Lexa cooked a real meal.  They didn’t discuss Arkadia or _Skaikru_ at all, Lexa saying that she needed more information before she could make a judgement.

               Walking into the encampment, Clarke immediately sees the difference in Lexa. Lexa is gone, and _Heda_ is in her place.  For her part, Clarke doesn’t feel like she acts any differently.  The soldiers think differently, apparently.  Whispers of “ _Heda en Wanheda_ ” spread through the camp, along with other whispers.  Clarke sees that a lot of the soldiers are staring at her, wonder on their faces.  She makes a mental note to ask Lexa about it later.  They dismount by the tent, and walk in, clearly expected by the _wormana_ since he’s already kneeling on the floor even before they are through the opening.  “ _Gyon op, wormana. Yu don ste os hana, ba ai laik Heda. Non na teik oso baga daun gon ai_.”  Lexas voice is calm, even and full of power, and even straight off the trail she appears regal and commanding.  The warchief rises, and shows them to the map table.  Some full water skins are hanging near the table, which Clarke and Lexa use before gathering and looking at the array of their forces. 

                Lexa lift her hand and snaps her fingers, not even looking up. A runner from an alcove in the tent springs to attention and hurries to her side..  She turns to him, and tells him to summon the heads of the other eleven camps, that there will be a war summit tonight.  The runner bows, points to another runner, and they rush from the room, while Lexa looks at Clarke.  “ _Klark_ , I need you to draw a map of Arkadia.  Please label any and all possible entrances, and where the building that _Reivon kom Skaikru_ works in is.  Anything that you think will be helpful should be included as well.”  Clarke realizes that Lexa planned for this, because there is a small box in her hands that has paper and charcoal.  Clarke sits, and begins to draw, able to clearly visualize Arkadia even though it’s been months since she was there.

                 Lexa looks over once or twice during her talk with the _wormana_ , and sees Clarke hard at work, drawing and shading.  Lexa had expected a crude drawing, but it looks like Clarke is creating a drawing to the best of her amazing talents.  Her tongue peeks out between her teeth as she concentrates, and the look on her face….Lexa loses her train of thought and has to start over again.  The _wormana_ intelligently says nothing, simply continues as if this happens all the time in front of him.  The time passes fast, and before Lexa knows it twilight has fallen, and the other leaders are striding into the tent.

                  Clarke remembers the last time they had a meeting like this: when they were planning on taking Mount Weather.  Lexa studying one of her drawings to make a strategy.  Fighting with Quint, escaping the _Pauna_ , allowing the missile to level TonDC, she remembers it all.  This time it’s going to be different, she says.  This time she won’t have to annihilate the people she’s sworn to protect. Only the guilty will die, and she swears this silently, buries it in layers of iron resolve.  She watches the others file into the tent, and then they kneel before Lexa.  Once again, Clarke doesn’t miss the widening of eyes when people see her.  They rise, gather around the map table, and look on as Lexa begins to outline the strategy for the taking of Arkadia.  She looks around the room, clearly looking for someone, and then speaks.

                 “We will take Arkadia, but it will not be easy. They have _tek_ that we don’t, and cannot match.  However, we have the best warriors of the _Kongeda_ assembled here, and I believe we can do it with little bloodshed.  But make no mistake, we WILL have justice.  Thanks to _Okteivia kom Skaikru,_ we know that they have _tek_ that can spy on us from the air, without our ability to see them.  They have placed weapons in the ground that can kill any warriors who step on them.  And they have more _fayogon_ than before, with people to use them, so we must take them by surprise.  What we—“ she breaks off as the tent opening rustles, and Octavia strides through.  Everyone turns to look at the newcomers.  Lexa smiles, and says “What we need is more information.  Here to give us that information is _Okteivia_ _kom Skaikru_.” 

                  Octavia says “Of course, _Heda._ What would you like to—“, and stops talking, stunned.  She sees Clarke standing there next to Lexa, and her jaw drops.  “Cl—Clarke?!?!  How are you standing here, I saw you shot with my own eyes!!  How can this be?”  The room erupts with whispers, but the one that is said, and then repeated clearly over and over again is “ _Wanheda nou na wan op_.”

                  Lexa raises her hands, and roars “ _SHOF OP, NAU_!! _Okteivia_ , please continue with the information we need, you can speak with _Klark_ after.”

                  “ _Moba, Heda_.  What do you want to know?”  Octavia moves over to the map table, rests her hands on the edge, and waits for Lexa.

                  “First off, how do things stand with our people trapped inside Arkadia? Are they still alive, and do you have any idea of how we can free them? Secondly, what do the people of Arkadia believe is happening?” Lexa obviously has more to ask, but she is asking her questions slowly, giving the other leaders in the room time to listen and ask their own questions.

                  “Our people in the prison are still alive, and thanks to the _wormana_ , lightly armed and better fed.  I actually have a plan to get them out tomorrow, and we can use that to help discredit Pike in the eyes of his people.  There aren’t enough of them in the prison to help us take Arkadia, and they would be shot and killed within minutes of escaping.  The ordinary people in Arkadia don’t know what to think.  All they know is that they aren’t allowed out, but that it’s for their own safety.  They’re told that you guys are coming to wipe them out.  Pike has armed them, and given most of them some form of weapons training.  He’s given them a demon to focus their hatred on…and sadly it’s all of you.”

                 “Our first strike will serve two purposes. Rescue our people from prison, and make Chancellor Pike look like a _branwoda_ who isn’t fit to lead a _sofstepa_ to milk.  At the same time”, and she looks around at the other leaders, “I want you all to pack up your camps.”  The room erupts in yelling, with one of the leaders, from _Azgeda_ , of course, going so far as put his hand on his weapons again.  Lexa stares them all down, and then raises a hand.  “I said strike the camps, not disband them and go home.  Half of your warriors are to make their way here, to the main camp, which we are going to advance by one mile towards Arkadia.  The other half are going to stay under the trees, but advance as far towards Arkadia as is possible without breaking cover.  I want them to be so busy looking at this camp that they don’t notice what the other warriors are doing.  This will also shake their faith in Pike, and weaken their hearts.  And we all know that a warrior with no heart is no warrior at all.  The second part of the attack will come after we have come up with a way to neutralize their _bumstepa.”_ Lexa sees Octavia raise her hand, and looks at her, and says, “You have an idea?”

                 “I have an idea, _Heda_ , but I need to talk to someone else first. And I’m gonna need Clarke for that.  Ooh, I’m also gonna need another three deer by tomorrow afternoon, and some birds.  Arkadia needs to see me supplying them with food, and it makes me more visible.”  Octavia sounds somber, almost introspective for a minute.

                   Lexa takes this time to speak again. “Are there any questions?”  When nobody answers her, she smiles.  “Very well, you have your orders.  I will send runners when we are ready to advance once again. _Okteivia_ , please stay behind. _Wormana_ , can we have some privacy, please? We need to talk.”  When everyone has left, Lexa waves her and Clarke over to the chairs in the room.  They sit down, Lexa pours some water into cups, and gestures for Octavia to begin.

 

                                                                                                                   ~ * ~

 

 

 

_Gyon op, wormana. Yu don ste os hana, ba ai laik Heda. Non na teik oso baga daun gon ai=_ Stand up, Warchief.  You’ve done a great job, but I’m the Commander.  Nobody defeats our enemies for me.

_Pauna=_ Gorilla

_Tek=_ technology

_Moba, Heda=_ Apologies, Commander.

_Wanheda nou na wan op_ = The Commander of Death cannot die.

_SHOF OP, NAU!!=_ Shut up, now!!

_Sofstepa=_ cat

_bumstepa=_ boom step (mines)


	10. Arkadia, the fortress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!!! So so so so sorry for the delay, but life kinda got in the way of my writing. I'm doing my best to get back on track with the updates..in the meantime, here's a short update to whet your appetite.

                    

         Octavia sits back in her chair, cup in hand.  “Clarke, how are you here?? How are you riding a horse…..hell, how are you walking not even a month after getting shot?  Is there some secret _Trikru_ healing method that I don't know about??   _Heda_ , anything you can tell us?”

           Lexa sits back, and take a sip.  “We, and by that I mean myself and my _fisa,_ think that it was the giving of my _shadjus_ to _Klark_ that accelerated her healing.  Perhaps when we can enter Arkadia we can ask _Klarks Nomon._ I know  that she is an accomplished _fisa,_ and has _tek_ that we obviously don’t _.  Mochof_ for teaching us about this transfusion, if I didn’t thank you before.”

Clarke leans forward, and asks the question that's been on her mind since they got to the camp.  “Lexa, is that why is everyone staring at me?? Since we got here, I've been stared at so much that I'm starting to get creeped out.  And why were they saying that I can't die?”  

              Lexa sits up, and looks deep in thought for a second.  She opens her mouth to speak, but Octavia beats her to it.  “Clarke”, she says, “nobody has ever survived being shot with a _fayogon_ before. Nobody.  EVER.  You're _Wanheda_ , the frigging Commander of Death.  And then you not only live through something that should be fatal, but are up and about like it never happened.  People think that you commanded Death to leave you alone, and it did.”

“But….but that’s ridiculous.  Nobody can stop death, certainly not me”, sputters Clarke.  “Tell them, Lexa.”  Lexa sits there, saying nothing.  “Lexa, this is crazy. You can't let people tell these stories.”

                 “And why not?  You know as well as I that an army fights with greater heart and effort when they have something to believe in.  And what they believe is that you can command Death itself.  Why should they fear defeat, when you fight alongside them?”  Lexa looks at her and continues.  “It will also keep you safe, when I cannot.  People will be less likely to try to take your power as Nia wanted to if you can’t die.”

                “That’s not the point Lexa, and you know it!! We can’t keep--”  Clarke is interrupted by a beep from Octavias bag that she had put next to her chair.  Octavia rummages in her bag, and she pulls something out that lights up, casting her face in a red glow.  Lexa gives a short intake of breath, clearly unfamiliar with this level of _tek_ , or any _tek_ , for that matter.  Ravens voice sounds from Octavias lap, jolting both Clarke and Lexa.

                “Hey, ninja girl, I can’t see anything except your chin!!   Lift me up!”  Ravens voice is clear and static free, almost as if she is in the room with them.  Octavia picks her bag up, and plops it onto the table with a thud, and props the tablet against it.  Ravens stares out at Clarke and Lexa, her face hardening for a moment when she sees Lexa, but she’s forgotten the moment Raven sees Clarke.  “Octavia, what the hell? You told me she was shot!! Wait a minute, hold on.”  Raven disappears off screen, and they can hear her voice, but not what she is saying.  Lexa takes this time to look behind the tablet, almost as if she’s expecting a small Raven to be standing there.  She looks at Clarke, a questioning tilt to her head.  Clarke whispers that Raven is sending a picture of herself to Octavia, and that Raven can see their picture at the same time.  Lexa nods, not only impressed but also thinking of the implications of this for their battle.  The ability to give orders that are instantaneously received is a priceless tool.

                 “Octavia, are you sure that this is secure?  If Pike can hear us, then Raven, our allies,  and our plans are in danger.”  Clarkes question startles Lexa.  If everyone has access to this _tek_ , and it isn’t private, perhaps it isn’t the edge that she thought it is.  She drags her mind back to Clarke and Octavia.

                “Monty said that it uses some secure, unused channel.  I asked him how secure it was if he could find and use it, he started talking, and my mind went blank.  All I know is, he had me drop these solar powered signal repeaters every few miles, so we’re covered.  He says it’s good, I believe him.”  Octavia moves her chair so that she is now sitting next to clarke, and able to see the tablet screen.  Raven comes back on screen, with a small smile.  

                She looks out at the trio, and says, “Ok guys, what’s the plan, and how can I add my wisdom to this and make sure that it succeeds?  And before we go any further, does anyone want to explain to me how Clarke is here? Either Octavia is lying, doesn’t know what she saw, or Clarke has a twin.  Seeing as how Bellamy is the only Arker with a sibling, that’s impossible.”

                Clarke leans forward to answer Raven, but Lexa beats her to it.  “We are still working out what happened, but _Klork_ was injured.  I cannot say for certain what healed her, but what I can tell you is that it was extremely dangerous, and not something that we would repeat without knowing more.   _Klark_ was in a...a coma, I believe the word is, for four days.  When we know more, we will tell you.  You have my word, _Reivon kom Skaikru_ .  Now what can you tell us of the _bumstepa_ that we must circumvent?”  Lexas voice is smooth and even, as if they are discussing the weather and not Clarkes possible death, or the invasion of their home.  

                Raven sits back, and her left hand goes down to her leg, and begins massaging it as she talks.  “There’s a ring of mines around the front of Arkadia, except for a very specific path that the vehicles can follow.  Do you have a map of the area, or something I can show you on?”  Clarke and Lexa look at each other, and then Lexa stands and says “We have better than that.”  Picking up the tablet, Clarke turns around...and stops.  The map table is now covered in a to-scale rendition of Arkadia, down to the walls, buildings, and the locations of the Grounder camps.  It must have all been done quickly while they were talking, but she never heard a sound.  Impressed, Clarke walks over to the map table.

               Raven whistles, impressed, and a bit scared with the detail that has been put into the map of Arkadia and it’s surroundings.  “You really scouted us well, didn’t you?  Hmmmmmm.  Octavia, can you draw a line or something on this?”  When Lexa hands Octavia a piece of charcoal, Raven gives her instructions.  “Start at the main gate.  Forward, a little bit more, now left.  No, your other left.  Like the letter C.  Now keep going, keep going, a bit more, stop!!  Now make a W shape...wider,  and a bit more curved...wider!!!   Now go forwards an inch, now go back towards the gate….go...make a hard left.  Keep going...stop.  another hard left….and there are two rocks, just wide enough for a rover.  That’s the entrance to the path.”

              Clarke and Lexa study the winding path, marveling at its design.  This took some planning, and a lot of foresight.  Lexa begins to think out loud.  “Pike has obviously planned on the _Kongeda_ coming for justice.  A shield wall would allow men to get to the gate, but we would have to scavenge for the metal--” Raven interrupts her.  “Sorry Commander, no can do.  Pike has snipers covering the whole of the path.  They are using military grade sniper rifles that can go through your shield, the person holding them, and another 2 people behind them.  Those rifles are accurate at over 800 yards, and nobody is getting down that path unseen.  Pike cut down all the trees in the front of Arkadia, so there’s no cover for your warriors either.”

               Lexa walks around the table, deep in thought.  She stops while looking at the back of Arkadia.  " _Klark, Reivon_ , what do you think of a rear assault?  You said that the _bumstepa_ are all towards the front of Arkadia.  A rear assault would avoid those, and if the fence wasn't lethal..."

               Raven shakes her head.  "Not possible.  Pike reinforced the base of the wall, raised the height by over 10 feet, and added a walkway so that his militia has an elevated position to fire from.   That's where he's stationed a few people with grenade launchers.  You don't need aim when you can make a ball of flame 30 feet across.  You can forget hugging the base of the wall, there are now electrified wires sticking out."

              Clarke frowns, and looks over at Lexa.  “Damn!! Raven, do you know how the mines are set off?  Lexa, if we send anyone in there now and the mines go off, Pike knows we’re coming.  And we can’t use  O’s path for that many people, someone is bound to see them.”

              Raven thinks for a moment.  “He can’t have that many on a direct trigger, ‘cuz he’d either need lots of wire or a radio detonator for each one, a computer controlled detonation board, and a way of labeling everything.  Two of those things he’d have to requisition from this department, and I know what’s here down to the last screw.  He probably has them on a direct pressure switch, which makes them dangerous, but only if you step on one.”

            “Oh, is that it?”  Octavia scoffs.  “We just need to get our warriors to make it across this open field without touching the ground.  Not a problem at all.”  The frown on her face belies the tone of her voice.

            “Actually”, says Raven, “I may have an idea about that.  I started tinkering with something a few days ago, it wouldn’t take much to finish it.  Do I have three days to finish it?  Because if I don’t, then my brilliance is gonna move on to another project.”

            Lexa thinks for a second, then nods.  “Three days is enough time, _Reivon kom Skaikru_.  If you have any other ideas, I’d be very interested in hearing them.  Clarke has told me that the fence of Arkadia is lethal to the touch.  Have you any idea of how to make it safe?”

            “Way ahead of you on that one, Commander.  It’s already done, i installed a shutoff a week ago.  All I have to do is press a button, and all power is diverted away from the fence.  Best part is that the generators aren’t damaged at all, so I don’t have to spend time repairing it later.”  Raven stops talking for a second, and she looks up, and smiles.  “Hey Clarke, someone here wants to say hi.”  Before Clarke has a chance to say something, an unexpected face pops into view.  

             Clarke visibly swallows, looking nervous.  “Hi, Mom.”  

             “Clarke, I didn’t know you were coming back!! i thought you were going to stay in Polis to work with the Commander and try to find a diplomatic solution to this.  Oh!!!  Hello, Commander.  I didn’t expect to see you here.”  Abby turns and gives Raven a hard glare, before turning back to the screen.  “  Does this mean that you found an answer, and these armies will be leaving now ”  Abby  Griffins face is worn, but she smiles when she sees Clarke.  Lexa can clearly see Clarkes smile in her mothers face, and the resemblance is unmistakable.  

            “Ummm, yea, Mom, thats not an option right now.  Thanks to Pike, it’s now a hell of a lot more difficult, and the situation is worse.  ALOT worse.”  Clarke takes a deep breath, looks at Lexa, and continues.  “After speaking with the Commander and the rest of the _Kongeda,_ it was agreed that the blockade of Arkadia continue, until the people who killed the peacekeeping force are handed over.  In addition, since Pike killed two messengers that were sent to him, he must also face the Commanders justice.  These are non-negotiable, and if they aren’t met in a timely fashion, the Commander will order an assault on Arkadia.  Any who resist will be killed.”  


	11. A well laid laid plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made.

                 “Killed??” Abby pales, and she looks back and forth between Clarke and Lexa.  “Commander, that may be going a bit far. I can understand taking Pike and those that assisted him, but the rest of the guards are just protecting their home. We just need-”

                  Lexa cuts her off with a wave of her hand.  “And the peacekeepers that were massacred, what were they?  No, _Abi kom Skaikru,_ anyone who stands against us is preventing justice being done.  And I will not allow that. _Ai laik Heda, en dison laik ai hedon._ Now, do you have any further ideas?  If not, please bring _Reivon_ back.  I need to ask her _tek_ questions.”

                 Before Abby can walk away, Clarke calls her.  She looks at Lexa, and says “Can I get a minute to talk to my mother?”. Seeing Lexa nod, Clarke moves closer to the tablet.  “So ummmm, how have you been?”

                 “Well, if you ignore getting almost thrown into the lockup, having some of my patients arrested for no reason, and not knowing what's going on with you, I've been fine. Thanks for asking.”   Abby looks serious for a heartbeat, before she smiles. “Relax Clarke, I'm kidding. It's been very tense and Pike and I get into arguments almost every day, but he can't do anything to me. I'm the only doctor he has, so I'm ok for now. So tell me how Polis was, you were there for a while with no messages back to us.”

                 “Well, it was ok. Lots of meetings, boring policy meetings...Remember how you used to complain on the Ark? Well, this is ten times worse.  There at least the stations weren't actively trying to kill each other, and saying the wrong thing during a meeting wouldn't cause a war…..or someone to challenge you to _soulou gonplei.”_ Clarke looks up as Lexa walks back, and can't help the small smile that crosses her lips, which her mother sees.  Shockingly enough, she simply excuses herself with the need to get back to the Sickbay, and hands the tablet over to Raven.  

               “Hey Clarke, what's up?”, asks Raven.  She stops talking and looks with some amusement as Clarke frantically makes a shushing motion.  After a minute of silence, she loudly whispers “ Why can't I talk?”

               “Is my Mom still there?  I don't want her to hear this”. Clarke whispers this to Raven, leaning close to the tablet.  Raven looks on with amusement before opening her mouth.

               “I don't know if you noticed this, Griffin, but I never changed the volume on this thing.  So leaning closer to it isn't gonna help you. But your mom left, so you can act all normal again. Or as normal as you get.”  Raven smirks for a second, before getting down to business. “You had questions for me, Commander?”

               Before Lexa can open her mouth, Clarke jumps in.  “You really didn't tell my mother that I was shot? All this time she had no idea? Thanks Raven.  I'm gonna to have to tell her, and it's not gonna be pretty.” Clarke looks nervous at the prospect of this, gnawing on a fingernail.

               “Are you kidding me? Me, tell Mama Griffin that her little Clarke has a potentially fatal wound and could already be dead?”. Raven sits down heavily, and begins massaging her leg with one hand while unbuckling her brace with the other.  “Clarke, it may have skipped your attention, but it has been very clearly burned into mine that she gets a teensy tiny bit irrational when it comes to your health. She had me illegally retrofit an escape pod, stole medication to get the parts, nearly got herself floated, and nearly got me killed getting to the ground.  A potentially **lethal** unsafe ground, just to make sure that you were alive.  Then she helped with the bright idea to bring the Ark down, and once here moved hell and heaven to find you.  If she had heard about this, she would have stormed the gates of Polis by herself and personally disassembled the Tower brick by brick  until she dragged you by your ass to Arkadia. And you know it. So don't look surprised that I didn't say a word, that's called self-preservation right there.  Besides, the Commander here could have gotten a message to her at any time. So let's try this again. You have questions for me, Commander?”

              Lexa clears her throat, and starts again.  “ _Reivon,_ I have some questions about these _bumstepa_ , or mines as you call them.  For example,” and she begins to hold up her fingers, “ can they be stopped? If so, can they be removed so that my warriors can walk on the ground safely? And can I use them in any way?  And no, _Klork,_ I didn't tell your _nomon_ .  That was a decision I had pushed off until I was sure you would live, and with the blockade, there was no point to send her information she could do nothing about.  I could not allow her to breach the blockade and live, and you know that she would never have stayed in Arkadia. Anyways, I really don’t think killing your _nomon_ is a good way to show you my love.   _Reivon?_ ”

              Raven looks between the two of them, and clears her throat.  “Well, ummm, uh, what you have here is a pretty standard mine.  Meaning, Commander, anyone who steps on the trigger plate is gonna get blown to Hell.  They’re maybe four or five inches under the surface, which, as you ladies know, isn’t that much.”  Ravens face breaks into a smile at her own joke, and Clarke gives a little chuckle, while Lexas face remains blank.  “Uhh, what I mean is that they aren’t that far down under the surface. Any long instrument thrust, “ and she snickers again, “ into the ground at the right angle and it should hit the trigger without activating it.  Then you just dig it up, carefully. There’s a pin here, once you slide it in, that inactivates the mine, and it can be transported. As for using them, i guess you could bury them again if you ever needed them.”

             “Can they be safely thrown, or shot with an arrow?  Just as we did by _Maun-de_.”, asks Lexa.  Raven thinks for a moment, her brow crinkling.  

             “I don’t see why not, but you run into some problems. First, “ Raven begins holding up fingers as she talks, “ In order to throw it, you would have to ensure that it lands with the the striker plate down, otherwise nothings gonna happen.  Two, these are shaped charges, designed to go UP, not OUT, so they really really won’t be effective. Third, you _could_ shoot it with an arrow, but you’d have the same issue, in addition to needing to generate over 20 pounds of pressure on a surface that’s only about 10 inches wide.  They would also have to be far enough away not to get injured in the blast themselves. He, or she, would have to be the worlds greatest archer.” She stops talking for a second, her brow furrowed in thought.  “ Do we have catapults?”, she asks, gleeful at the thought of making things that go **boom** airborne **.**

              Lexas answer takes the glee out of her, though. “We don’t, but the knowledge of how to make them is available.  Sadly, it would take too long at this point, since it requires equipment be brought from TonDc.  So….what you’re telling me, _Reivon_ , is that these mines are not an offensive weapon, unless I can get someone to push them into a wall.”

              “What!?!?!?!  OH HELL NO!!” are the simultaneous shouts from both Raven and Clarke upon hearing Lexas statement.  “ _Heda,_ that would be a suicide mission”, is Octavias quiet reply, which for some reason sounds louder in the tent than the shouting of the other two girls.  

              Clarke says, “Lexa, you can’t do that.”  

              To which Lexa replies, in all seriousness, “Yes, I can.”  Then she looks into Clarkes eyes while continuing. “I won’t, though.  A _Heda_ that wastes the lives of her warriors is not a very good _Heda,_ and not usually in their position for very long after.  No, that is our option of last resort only. Tell me about this back wall, since there are no mines there.”

             Octavia begins to answer, with Raven chiming in every few sentences.  “ The wall is about 30 feet high, with a walkway running around it, and 2 guard towers located halfway across.  The tree line has been cut back, similar to the front, and the wall has been pushed out and deepened at the base, to prevent tunnelling.  The bottom has wiring similar to the fence, so nobody can climb it.” “Oh, and the guards have searchlights, so they can see, and grenade launchers, so they can kill multiple things at a time.”

             Lexa begins to laugh, and when everyone looks at her, she smiles.  “Tunnels? We don’t have the time or the equipment for that. Shallow Valley are the best miners we have, but even they need time to dig.  Time, which we don’t have. No, tunnels are not an option. Can the wall be climbed? Clarke, what's wrong?”. Lexa moves around the table to Clarke, who is visibly grimacing and holding her abdomen.  “Clarke?? Clarke, talk to me, _niron!!”_. Octavia doesn't say a word, but looks nervously at Raven and moves closer.

             Clarke takes a deep breath, and releases it in a shudder.  She looks up at Lexa, who was holding her shoulder. “It's ok, Lexa, I'm fine.  I had a cramp, that's all. It's been”, and she counts off on her fingers, “ yea, just like clockwork.  Relax Lexa, its just my period. Let’s keep going, this war isn’t going to wait for my uterus to finish.”  As everyone sits back down, Clarke motions for Raven to continue.

             Raven says “Glad to see that you’re human just like the rest of us, Griffin.  I can turn the juice off to the wall, and it can be safely climbed. I’m actually kinda curious how you plan on dealing with the guard towers, though.  It’s not like you have an army inside...the..but you do, don’t you?”

             Lexas grin could best be described as wolfish.  “ _Linkon kom Trikru_ is already inside the walls, as is _Akelo  kom Trishanakru_ .  She is...someone that you call upon when you need a stiletto and not a war hammer.  Her skills would prove invaluable at this time. Simply show her your palm, _Okteivia_ , and tell her to clear the wall with _Linkon_ when the signal is given.  Ask the armorer for some throwing knives and some daggers, those are her preferred weapons.  So here is our plan as I will present it to the gathered _wormana_.  We will attempt to dig up several of these mines, not to clear a path, but so that we can throw them at the field, and hopefully keep the attention focused on the front.  The hostages will be freed, and will either leave Arkadia, or stay behind to fight, as they wish. After the guards are neutralized, ten of Rock Lines best climbers will ascend the wall that Raven here has removed the power from.  They have this climbing arrangement that looks almost like a system of pulleys and can be operated by one person. I’ve seen a fully armored warrior use it to climb a building in less time than it takes to fire six arrows. Using this system, we can get over a hundred warriors into Arkadia in fairly short order. What, Raven, what is it?”  This question comes as a response to Raven almost literally bouncing up and down in excitement.

            “I can guarantee that nobody is going to be looking at the back.   My ‘little’ idea,” and she finger brackets the term, to which Lexa gets the most adorable (to Clarke) look of confusion, “ is going to keep everyone else occupied.  I’m gonna leave to work on it. O, when are we getting back together to go over this plan one more time?”

             Octavia looks at Lexa, who answers.  “The prisoners will be freed tomorrow morning, before _Okteivia_ returns to Arkadia.  We will meet here once more in two nights, to make sure that all is according to plan.  Then we strike. “ She calls once again for a runner, and instructs them to summon the head of the _Boudalan_ warriors.  Raven agrees, and the tablet goes blank.  Octavia glances once at Clarke, turns off the tablet which she slips into her bag, nods to Lexa, and walks out the tent entrance.  “It’s a good plan”, Lexa utters as she gets up and pours herself another drink, and gives it to Clarke after a sip. “ Is this going to be a repeat of last time?”

           “What do you mean?  What happened last time?”  Clarke shifts in her seat, and winces, clearly in pain.  

            “You don’t remember?  You don’t remember the endless agonizing, the constant planning and replanning of everything?  Because I do, and I’m hoping you’ve learned from that experience. And are you sure that I can’t get you anything?”  Lexa has a pleading look on her face, as if Clarkes pain is causing her pain as well.

            “Maybe a skin with some hot water in it, and some cuddling would be helpful.”  Lexa immediately gets up, walks to the small kettle hanging over the fire, and pours some steaming hot liquid into her waterskin.  Sealing it tightly, she pulls Clarke out of her chair and onto the bed. Wrapping a thin cloth around the skin, she places it on Clarkes lower belly, and then pulls some furs over them.  Tucking her head into the hollow of Clarkes neck and kissing her cheek, Lexa begins to lazily draw a meandering design on Clarkes other shoulder. Between the heat of the waterskin, the feeling of Lexas body on hers, and (truthfully) a long day, they both drift off to sleep.

             Clarke opens her eyes to see a clump of brown hair on her face.  She smiles, and breathes in the smell that is _Lexa_ .  A combination of lavender, mint, and her body, Clarke would know it anywhere.  It’s the smell of _home._  She smiles, and kisses Lexa on the cheek.  Moving her legs reminds Clarke that her period has started.  “I hate this part” she grumbles to herself. Being careful and trying not to wake Lexa, she pulls the furs off her legs, glances down, and freezes.  Her thighs are covered in black, sticky blood.

 

_Ai laik Heda, en dison laik ai hedon_ = I’m the commander and this is my judgement.

_soulou gonplei =_ single combat (usually to the death)

_Trishanakru_ = Glowing Forest Clan

_Boudalan =_ Rock Line Clan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies!!! I'm so glad that you've stuck around, and i hope that you're enjoying this. Stick around, things are about to get fun!!  
> Sorry it took so long to update, life sadly kinda got in the way.  
> and as always, FUCK YOU, Jason.


	12. Things begin to move, faster and faster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovelies!! I'm so so so sorry that this update took so long, life just kicked me in the ass. But never fear, my dears, this tale WILL get finished. So thanks for coming, and feel free to drop me a comment.
> 
> And as always, Fuck you, Jason!!

               Clarke lays there, thinking that it’s a trick of the light that makes her look like a _Natblida_.  She reaches down, and after touching the fluid, brings it up to her face.  No doubt about it, she thinks to herself, it's blood. “Lexa!!”, she hisses as she reaches out and taps her sleeping girlfriend.  Lexa is instantly awake, shooting up in the bed, dagger in hand. She whips her head around, looking for threats, and after seeing none, looks down.  She sees the blood, and freezes momentarily.

              “ _Keryon”_ , Lexas breathes.  “How is this possible? You weren't born with _sheidjus_.”

              Clarke whispers back, “I don't know, but what do we do now?”

               Lexa thinks for a second.  “For now, we do nothing. We hide the bedding that is bloody, win this war, and then we go to your _nomon_ and she uses her _tek_ to help us understand what has happened.”

              “Nothing!?!?!?!”, Clarke shouts in a whisper.  “That’s your big plan, Miss ‘I have a plan for everything’? Do nothing!?!”

               “Yes”, a non-plussed Lexa answers.  “Until we have more information, it's useless to speculate.  Worrying about something that we don't understand and can't change is a waste of energy.  Far better to spend energy on something you CAN change.” She grabs a clean cloth from the bedside table, soaks it in water from a skin hanging at the bedside, and begins to clean the blood off of Clarke.  Soon the task is done, and Lexa hands Clarke a wad of cloth, the Grounder equivalent of a pad. “My handmaidens would never ask, but if anyone here does, we simply say it was MY time until we know more. Now lets get going, we have much to do.”

                “Wait, where did you get the dagger from?  You didn't have any weapons when we went to sleep.”

                 Lexa looks at her as if she is asking why water is wet.  “I am _Heda_ , _Klork_ .  I’ve been sleeping with a pillow with a dagger inside it since I became _Heda_.  There's also one on your side of the bed, inside the mattress.  Any more questions? Good.”

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               Sitting at his desk, Pike feels a sense of frustration.  Surrounded by the most advanced technology on the planet, firepower unmatched by anything his opponents have to offer, and he’s being defeated by primitives armed with pointy sticks.  Rubbing his eyes, he gets up and walks over to the map in the corner of his office, and looks, trying to see an angle of attack that he so far has missed. Hearing shouts from outside, he looks out the window, and sees a crowd gathering near the front gate.  He steps out of his office, and nearly gets run over by a child who is running down the hallway at breakneck speed. “Whoa, slow down son!!” He chuckles, as the child continues his run leaving only a faint “Sorry Mr. Chancellor sir!!” behind. Following the child, he makes it outside, and begins the walk to the gate.  Halfway there, someone walks past him the opposite way, yelling back how she’s going to let the kitchen know to make some space. The crowd parts, and Octavia Blake leads her horse up the path towards the part of the yard set aside for the butchering and draining of large animals. He can see that it’s pulling a travois with three deer, and a few pheasant hang from the saddle.  He moves alongside her, and ignores the look of pure disgust she gives him as he begins to talk. “Did you see anything while you were out hunting?”, he asks her.

              She says nothing, just keeps on walking.

              His ire rising, he tries once again, mindful of where they are and the crowd that is in within earshot.  “Octavia, I’ll ask you again. Did you see anything out in the woods while you were out hunting?”

              She says nothing, just spits on the ground near his foot, and keeps walking.  He grits his teeth, grabs the horses bridle, and stops Octavia. He leans forwards, his voice low, staring daggers at her.  “You don’t have to like me. In fact, I don’t care if you do. I only let you be here because your brother vouched for you. You're only here because of him, and because I have Lincoln.  With one sentence, Lincoln gets executed as an enemy of Arkadia. One sentence. Want to see? Try me. There’s nothing I won’t try to keep Arkadia safe from those cavemen.”

              At his words, Octavia looks up, a flash of hate and fear running across her face.  She reaches back into her saddlebags, and throws two arrows at his feet. “Those are from _Yujleda_ and _Azgeda_.  Two clans at opposite ends of the coalition.  That means that they’re all here, which means that Lexa is here as well.  Surrender is your only option, because they aren’t going to go away. Eventually they’re gonna drive out all the animals, and I won’t be able to hunt.  Now if you don’t mind, I need to get these dressed and my horse watered. And I’d like to see Lincoln, seeing as how I’m feeding the populace.”

                She stops talking and walks away, leaving Pike to think. “Sir!! Sir!!”  His aide runs up to him, breathless. “Sir, we have a problem. The prisoners...”,  the young man trails off, as Pike looks up, anger written clearly all over his face.  He visibly gulps, then continues. “They've escaped, sir.” THe young man scurries to the side as Pike stalks back towards his office, giving a small squeak as Pike rounds on him.

                 “Lock down the security office and bring the data feed directly to my office.  Begin a search of Arkadia, teams of three with orders to shoot to kill. If anyone asks, tell them that there signs of a possible infiltration, and that we’re acting to protect them.  Go, now!!” The young man begins running in the direction of the security office, stopping when Pike calls him back. “Who were the two guards that were on duty, and where are they?”

               “Medbay, sir. It was Rothenburg and Guzman.   Doctor Griffin is looking at them now.”

               “Very well. Secure the office, then order a detail to guard the door, and wait by my office.  I'm going to check on my people”. Without waiting for a reply, he turns in the direction of the medical bay and begins walking.  Stepping in, he hears whimpers from behind a curtain. “Doctor Griffin? It's the Chancellor, I've come to check on the guards.” The curtain rustles, and Abby steps out from behind it, wiping her hands with antiseptic solution.  She holds a finger up to her mouth, and motions to him to move away from the treatment area. “How are they, Doctor?”

               “Stable. I sent Guzman back to his quarters with an escort.  He's high as a kite, some sort of herbal hallucinogen that I'm guessing was in his coffee.  Rothenburg as well, which was good for him.”

               “How so?”

               “They left Guzman alone.  Rothenburg, however, they assaulted.  It looks like he was struck repeatedly in the groin with a blunt instrument.  If I didn't know any better, I'd say that he was kicked several times by a very large horse.  I just finished an ultrasound, but both his testicles are crushed beyond saving. There's so much penile swelling that if it doesn't go down soon I'm going to have to amputate or it's going to become gangrenous.”  She looks at Pike, and asks, “They only harmed him, not Guzman. Do you know why?”

                Pike could tell her of the numerous complaints from women regarding Rothenburgs behavior.  How some of the Grounders had complained of harassment and even physical violence. He chooses not to, but to simply say, “Who can understand why these savages do anything?  Keep me posted, please.”

                The journey back to his office has him deep in thought.  When he gets there, he tells his aide to find Jasper and sober him up.  Closing the door and sitting down, he opens the drawer, and looks at the whiskey before closing the drawer.  He knows he's going to need a clear head if he's going to outsmart his enemies. Bringing up he security feed, he begins to watch.  He sees the guards change shift, Guzman and Rothenburg holding and drinking from steaming bottles. He fast forwards, and then resumes watching when he sees the Rothenburg staring off into space, Guzman having a very animated conversation with the stool he was sitting on.  A hooded figure walks into the frame, bends over, and takes the keys off of Guzmans belt. Opening the door, the figure walks inside, emerging a minute later followed by Kane, Lincoln, and the rest of the Grounders. The men continue walking,but the women stop next to Rothenburg.  They hold his legs spread as far as they can, one holding his arms up above his head. Then one woman rears back,and delivers a savage looking kick to his groin. Holding him steady, Pike can see that the women are nodding with approval. Doing it again, the woman trades places with one of the other women, and the process starts over again.  Pike forces himself to watch, because it's his fault his guard was injured. If he had been watching for spies, if he had been more aggressive against these Grounders,they wouldn't be in this position.

                 The last woman to go give one kick, the crotch of Rothenburgs pants already stained black from injury caused by multiple strikes.  She then jumps up, landing with her knees directly on his crotch. Pike winces, sympathy pain making him instinctively move his own legs together.  Spitting on him, each one walks off the camera. Watching for another minute, Pike shuts it off when there's nothing more to see. Calling his aide in, he asks for the kitchen supervisor to be brought to him.  Waiting, he decides to close his eyes for a minute and take a quick nap.

                  A knock on the door wakes him,and he rubs his face briskly.  “Come in”, he calls out. The kitchen supervisor, a small nervous looking man walks in.  

                 “Good morning, Sir.  Is there a problem?”, he asks.  

                 “Actually, yes.  We DO have a problem,and I need your help to solve it.  What’s your name, my friend?”

                  “Karl, sir.  Karl Wittenreich”.

                  “Karl, I have to ask you a question.  Can I trust you, Karl? can I trust you, and your discretion?”

                 The supervisor stands up straighter, and Pike nearly laughs when he realizes the other man is puffing his chest out.  “You can count on me, Sir. Whatever it is, I'll make sure that it gets done.”

                “Thanks, I knew I could trust you.  I need your help, it appears we have spies inside Arkadia.  Two of the guards were poisoned this morning, and I need information.”. Pike watches the man as he talks, and the gasp of shock that the supervisor gives him sounds real.  Not that it means much.

               “Sir, that's terrible!! I hope you don't think that anyone in my department may have had anything to do---”

              Pike cuts him off in the middle of his sentence.  “I don't know, and that's why I need your help. Where did the guards get their coffee?”

             “From the big urn in the corner.  That's where everyone gets their coffee in the morning.  But nobody else got sick, I had some also and I'm fine. Oh my God, were we all poisoned? Are we going to die??”  His face turning as pale as the apron he's wearing, the supervisor sinks into the chair in front of him.

           “Relax, my friend.  If you were poisoned, you would be showing symptoms now.  Since you’re not, it’s safe to assume that it wasn’t the coffee.”  Pikes voice is calm, comforting. Something that Bellamy once told him tickles the back of his brain….something about Lexa killing her second in command because of a failed assassination attempt.  What was his name? Geros, Gufus....Gustus!! That’s it!! “The mugs that the guards drink from, are they communal mugs?”

            “N-no, each guard has their own mug, with their names on it.  We wash them when they leave it in the kitchen, , and the guards fill it themselves.”

            “Who had access to the mugs?”  Pike now looks directly at the man, watching, appraising him, trying to see if he’s telling the truth.

            “Everyone, sir.  Once the mugs are washed, they are put in the rack by the wall, where all the other clean dishes go.  Everyone has access to that, not just kitchen staff, but everyone in the camp.”

             Pike slumps in his chair, rubbing his chin.  He’s already checked, there are no cameras in the kitchen.  He looks up, and sees the supervisor still standing there. “Thanks for your time, you’ve been most helpful.  Please do not, I repeat, do NOT talk about this to anyone. We certainly don’t want a panic to start.” Nodding his head, the man walks out of the room, assuring Pike that his lips are sealed.  

              Almost immediately, his intercom buzzes.  His aide tells him that Jasper is outside, and he gets up and opens the door to his office.  “Come in, Jasper. Come in, and have a seat.” Jasper walks in with a slight limp, and sinks into the seat offered.  “Jasper, it’s that time. You were right, and I’m going to need your help. You may not know this, but we had some Grounder prisoners here in Arkadia, and this morning someone, or some group of sympathizers, let them out.”  

               “Octavia is working with Clarke and those damn Grounders.  She always has been, she’s sleeping with one of them, for fucks sake.  It has to be her. Her and Clarke.” Jaspers voice is full of hate as he speaks.

               “You’re probably not wrong, but this happened before she came back to Arkadia.  You said before that she was talking to Raven?” Pikes tone is mild, and he sits down on a corner of the desk near Jasper, hands folded across his chest.

                “Yes, sir.  They were talking, and Bellamy was there as well.  THey were saying something about _jobi_ nuts, and using them on the guards.  They said that there was someone in the kitchen that was gonna put it in their food, and then they were going to make you look incompetent.”  Jaspers voice, while shaky, is clear. Pike wonders when the last time he had a drink was, then realizes that it doesn’t really matter.

                “Did they ever say who was going to help them?”, Pike asks.

                “I didn’t hear that part, sir.  I’m sorry.” Jasper looks contrite, as if he had failed in some important task.  Pike felt that he did, since he was big on assumptions, and short on actionable details.

                “Ok, Jasper.  Here’s what I need you to do.  I need you to stay close to Raven, listen to what she says, note who she talks to.  Anything you think is important, you bring to me, directly in this office, no matter what time.  Pull me off the toilet if you need to, i don't give a damn. I don't care how you do it.  Maybe you fake being drunk ( _as if he needs to fake that_ , he thinks), maybe you tell her that you want to be friends again, like before.  I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but get it done. She’s the key to this whole thing, i feel it.  They can’t match our technology, and so they need Raven to overcome it.” Pike stops talking, and eyes the kid sitting in the chair.  “Think you’re up for this, Jasper?”

                  Jasper nods, not saying a word.  

                 “Jasper, I’m trusting you with this.  Don’t screw up.” Jasper just gives him a look, and shakily gets up.  As he moves towards the door, Pike calls out behind him, “Oh, one more thing, Jasper.  If you do this right, and we DO win, you’re going to find yourself in a locked room, with Clarke Griffin.  Nobody watching, no video, and thirty minutes to do whatever you want. But”, and he stresses this as Jasper gives an evil smile, “she needs to be able to stand a trial after for collaborating with the enemy.  Her and Raven, Octavia, and everyone else that you can catch. So no killing her. Any other injuries? I’m sure that she put up quite a struggle.” The door opens and closes, and Pike is once again alone with his thoughts.  He gets up, walks to the screen, and starts planning where they should expand to once they’ve sent the Commander scurrying off.

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               Night has fallen, bringing with it the sound of crickets chirping in the night, the calls of owl and bat, and the harsh, bright light of watchtowers.  Abby Griffin steps out of the Medbay into the cool night air, thankful to escape to the outside for the first time all day. Her mind flashes back to what she spent all day doing, and she feels a surge of pity for the guard who woke up from anesthesia to hear that his penis and testicles had just been surgically removed.  The look of horror on his face and his anguished screams before he was sedated...Abby shakes her head as if to shake the memory out of her mind, and begins walking towards the Mechbay to check on Raven. Abby knows that given half a chance, Raven would work until she physically collapsed, completely forget to take care of her leg or do the physiotherapy that Abby prescribed, and probably forget to eat.  She sees that the door to the bay are partially cracked open, and a harsh light exits occasionally. Walking in, she’s greeted by the sight of Raven, overalls and welding mask on, working on some sort of contraption. Abby isn’t sure what it is, but there seem to be quite a lot of chains involved. Loud music plays from an old iPod salvaged from Mount Weather, so loud that Abby can barely hear herself yelling Ravens name.  After the third try, she walks over and shuts it off. Raven whirls around, holding the welding torch up as a weapon, then lowers it as she sees that it’s Abby. She pulls of the helmet, and smiles.

               “Nyaah”, she begins, as Abby groans and covers her face.  “Whats up, Doc?”

               Abby chuckles as she says, “Raven, you need a better line.  That one’s about two hundred years old.”

               Raven laughs.  “And it’s still just as funny, so it’s obviously a keeper.  What brings you here?”

               “Checking up on you”, Abby replies.  “I wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself.  You tend to get a bit single minded. And if you had heard from our friends out there in the woods.”

               “I am, and i swear I’m sleeping and eating at least twice a day.  Scouts honor, Abby!!” Raven holds up three fingers, and Abby starts laughing again.

               “You were never a scout, Raven.  I think that’s from that movie about the girl with the bow.”

                “No, i’m pretty sure that this is from the Scouts.  Besides, who ever heard of a mockinjagy? Everyone knows ravens are way more intelligent.  And I spoke to our friends earlier tonight. Everything is still going according to plan. Clarke says hi, by the way.”  Abby looks around as Raven talks, trying to make sure that they’re alone. Raven snorts. “Relax, Abby. Only person here besides us is Jasper, and he crawled in here an hour ago, drunk off his ass.  He’s probably sleeping somewhere in the back, but I just got kinda caught up in what I was doing, and kicking him out didn’t seem important.” She looks behind her, and underneath the workbenches, but shrugs and says, “I don’t see him, maybe he left and I didn’t notice.  Whatever. Listen, Abby, I got to get back to work. Look, I’ve gotta finish this for Pike, or we don’t stand a chance when the Grounders show up. Thanks for checking in, I’ll catch you later.”

                Putting her helmet back on, she turns up the music, and moves back to her project, which to Abby looks like a small truck with wheels and chains coming out of its exhaust pipes.  She shrugs, and leaves to get some food, a shower, and sleep, in that order. Neither of them see Jasper watching them as they leave.

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                Perched on the side of the main Ring that makes up Arkadia, Octavia and Lincoln watch the last of the captive Grounders sprint across the open field to the side of Arkadia, dodging searchlights and using the terrain to hide.  Octavia laughs under her breath, and when Lincoln looks at her, she smiles. “When we first met you, we thought we knew how to survive, and that we would fight you guys off. Remember how we marched into the woods, not even realizing that you were in the trees above us?”

               Lincoln smiles.  His voice, when he answers, is a deep baritone that Octavia can’t get enough of.  “You reminded us of a bird that puffs up its feathers, but if you take one more step towards it, it runs away.  And if you remember, we did lose that fight. Hopefully, we can avoid any more fights like that.” he finishes talking, and then begins to clamber back down the structure, at home here as he is in the woods or the tree tops.  Reaching the ground, they skirt the edge of the structure, keeping to the shadows until they reach the back. Moving a piece of debris, a hole in the ground is revealed. Moving down the tunnel on their stomachs, they exit the tunnel into one of the server rooms that serve as the basement of the Ark.  Moving through that room, they open the door to a side storage room, now their current base of operations. Akela is laying on the ground,a blanket bunched up underneath her head. She doesn't respond when they enter, eyes closed, looking for all the world asleep. Moving around her to pile of old seat cushions that they found in storage, they sit down and make themselves comfortable, Octavia sitting on Lincolns lap.  Nuzzling his neck for a minute, Octavia places a kiss, and then moves back. “What's on your mind?”, she asks Lincoln.

                  “When this is all over, I'm going to ask Clarke to ask _Heda_ to lift the kill order.  If she does, I'm going to leave here. Will you leave our people and come with me?”  Octavia sits up and looks at Lincoln with surprise, staying here had originally been his idea.  

                  “Are you sure?  What happened to trying to create a lasting peace, working with Kane and Abby?”

                  Lincoln gives a sigh, and hugs Octavia closer to him.  “I don’t think your people are ready. They are too easily cowed by a strong leader, too easily pushed to accept evil things done ‘for their own benefit’.  I...I don’t want to attempt to raise our children in a place that seems to be governed by fear.”

                 “Where would we go?”  Octavia looks up, while hugging his arm closer to her.

                 “Wherever we wanted”, is his answer.  “You’ve never seen the sea, listened to the sound of the waves.  I could take you there, and you could meet Luna, head of _Floukru._  I would love for you to come with me to see the caves of _Lowada KlironKru_.  Anywhere you want to go, we can go.”

                  Octavia touches his face, whispering, “You are my people, _Linkon kom Trikru_ .  Where you go, I go.  Clarke is gonna owe me big time for this, and that means _Heda_ owes me big!!” Octavia snickers at the thought of the proud Commander owing her, the girl under the floor, a favor or two.

                 “Owes?”  A voice purrs next to her ear, drawing a startled yelp from Octavia and making Lincoln flinch.  Akela continues from her spot right behind Lincoln, where nobody had heard her creeping to. “ _Heda_ owes nobody. Ever.  You would do well to remember that, _Okteivia kom Skai en Graun_.”  She sits back, and regards the two lovers with an unreadable expression.  “Tell me again, what were her instructions?”

                “Ummm”, answers Octavia, clearly still unnerved, “she said that tomorrow night, during Ravens distraction, you and Link are to go up to the rear catwalk, and eliminate the guards silently.  After that, she said that you should ‘do what you do best’.”

                Akela smiles, and Octavia shudders, since it’s quite possibly the creepiest thing she has ever seen.  Way, way worse than that movie about the Annabelle doll that she watched with Raven one night. “Get some sleep, tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”

               “But the attack isn’t until tomorrow night”, says Octavia.

              “Tomorrow, you’re going to show me everyone who took part in the attack on _Heda_ s troops.  What they look like, where they sleep, who they live with.  Also, everyone who is in charge of your _gona_.  And I’m going to need a guide through this rats maze, and you’re it.  So get some sleep.”

               Outside, four miles away, an owl hoots and takes wing, it’s perch disturbed by the movement of armed men and women through the trees.  Beneath, _Heda_ and _Wanheda_ lead their troops to the underbelly of Arkadia.

                

 

 _Floukru_ = Boat Clan

 _Lowada KlironKru_ = Shallow Valley Clan

 _Okteivia kom Skai en Graun_ = Octavia of the Sky and Ground


	13. The beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovelies!! So these next few chapters are going to be multiple points of view, but all at the same chronoligcal time. I'm doing this so that you can get a good sense of how this battle plays out. Thanks so much for still being with me on this ride, and as always, feel free to drop me a comment!! I love hearing from you guys.

 

           Morning dawns, with a trill of birdcall, gradual lightening of the sky, and rustleing movements in the woods.  Warriors who were on guard duty get food brought to them from the small cookfires that their compatriots made. Yawning, Clarke rolls over, but doesn’t feel Lexas presence at her back.  Slowly opening her eyes, she lifts her head from her bedroll, seeing and hearing the camp bustle around her. For getting a short amount of sleep, she reflects that she feels incredible, ready to take on Arkadia by herself.  Getting up, she shakes out the bedroll, secures it, then tosses it into the cart that carries the camp supplies. Each warrior has distinctive knotwork or tie to their stuff, making it unique. Clarke laughs, thinking that holding a lot of sharpened steel makes people very polite.  Accepting a bowl of porridge with nuts in it, she munches it down quickly, while looking around. Seeing her, the warrior manning the cooking fire points in a direction, typical Grounder brevity showing. “ _ Mochof, gona”,  _ is Clarkes answer.  Clarke leaves the bowl there when she’s finished, since the cooking and the cleaning of breakfast is part of the warriors job, a reason why it’s used a punishment.  Walking in the direction provided, Clarke soon comes upon Lexa, speaking to a small group of warriors. Their armor and distinctive ear piercings mark them as warriors of  _ Ingrarona _ , the Plains Riders.  Clarke wonders why Lexa would be talking to them specifically, since their clan is known for horsemanship, and there clearly won’t be any cavalry used here.  

            Upon seeing her, Lexa turns and smoothly says, “ _ Os sonop, Wanheda.” _  Turning to the warriors, she continues.  “ _ Yu gada prom in gon ai _ ? _  Nou? Ait.  Os gonplei, you.” _  They salute Lexa, and walk away.  Clarke jerks her head at the departing warriors, and looks at Lexa with a question in her eyes.  Lexa tells her that these are a select group of warriors, trained in the use of natural camouflage to move undetected in areas such as this.  “Their role”, Lexa says, “will be to stay in the back of Arkadia, to prevent anymore from attempting to escape out the rear. when I sent out the call for warriors, I only asked for them, since I didn’t anticipate that we would need cavalry.  Did you sleep, _ ai hodnes _ ?”  She gives a big wide smile, almost like she knows something that Clarke doesn’t.

             Clarke eyes her while saying, “Yea, better than i’ve slept in a really long time.  Its weird, I woke up feeling energized, like I had been sleeping all day.”

             Lexa nods.  “One of the many benefits of  _ sheidjus _ , i believe.  You once commented on my lack of sleep, now you know why I need less than most.  I believe that  _ natblida  _ possess this trait, so that we may make more effective  _ Heda _ .”  Clarke blinks, wondering what else she is capable of now.  Lexa laughs, and says, “You still need to sleep, but less than you did before.  You’ll find that your injuries heal faster, and your endurance is also better.”

            “So what do we do for the rest of the day, Lexa?”

             "The warriors will prepare for battle.  You and I will go and work on your throwing knives.”  Lexas cheeks and ears turn a bright red, as she remembers what happened the last time she tried to teach Clarke how to throw knives.  Clarke remembers also, with a rush of warmth to her groin. 

             “Ditch the bodyguards, and it’s a deal”, she whispers to Lexa as she walks off into the woods, extra sway in her hips.

             Lexa stares for a second, brain clearly not working, then she snaps out of it.  Giving a peculiar whistle, she speaks rapidly to the warrior that drops out of the trees directly in front of her.  Then she chases after Clarke.

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             Morning dawns, with a trill of birdcall, gradual lightening of the sky, and rustleing movements in the woods.  Chancellor Pike stands in his office, looking at the latest in aerial surveillance. It’s all in real time, streaming from one of the drones that they were able to recover from Mount Weather, and it doesn’t paint a good picture.  The barbarians have partially moved from tree cover, and gathered in one big mass. There aren’t as many as he was expecting, which makes him think that they either are holding some in reserve, or there weren’t that many to begin with.  Unfortunately, there are still too many for him to deal with head on..he’s going to have to outwit this Commander. ‘Shouldn’t be too hard’, he thinks. ‘I have access to weaponry that is far superior, greater range, and I can study any battle in history that was recorded.’  There’s a knock on his door, and Chief Sinclair pokes his head in.

            “Good morning, Sir.”  Sinclair smiles, cheery for some reason.  “Do you have a minute?”

            “For you my friend, I do”, is Pikes answer.  “Whats up?”

            “Raven finished making something that she said you would be extremely interested in seeing.  Her exact words were ‘they should thank my parents for making me, cuz I just won this war’. Wanna go see it?  Cuz heaven only knows what lunacy that girl thought of now.”

             Pike looks at the data screen, at the mound of paperwork on his desk, and shrugs.  “Sure, why not?” 

             Walking out of the Admin building, Pike squints up into the sky.  There’s not a cloud in the sky, its warm with a cool breeze, and the smell of roasting meat wafts through the camp.  Sinclair jerks his head to the right. “She said that she would be at her testing ground. I have no idea what this is, but she was practically giddy.  Knowing her, it’s probably a hydrazine powered toothbrush that works by exploding the plaque off your gums.”

             Approaching the area, the two men see a veritable forest of tree trunks sunk into the ground.  There a squat machine on treads set about twenty five feet in front of the trunks, covered in chains that are attached to bars set upright like radio antennae, and there’s an old-school demon face spray painted on it.  “What is that contraption, Sinclair?”, Pike wonders out loud.

            Before he has a chance to answer, a voice behind them says, “I call it the Grounder Pounder.”  Raven Reyes walks up them, her brace squeaking slightly. “Mr. Chancellor, Sir, can I task one of the drones to fly overhead, so you can get a better angle on what I’m about to demonstrate?  I think this is something you’re going to want to see over and over again. Sir.” 

            Pike thinks, and then nods his assent.  Pulling out his radio, he speaks into it, and a few minutes later, Monty Green comes out, holding the remote controls to a drone.  Nodding to the young man, Pike says, “Can you set it to hover over this area, son, and have it record?”

           “Sure, Mr. Chancellor.”

             Two minutes later, the drone whirring fifty feet overhead, Raven ushers the three men behind a Plexiglass barricade set up in a corner of the yard.  Handing out goggles, she looks at sinclair and says, “You can’t be too careful, right Chief? We don’t want another eyebrow incident.” Turning on a recorder near the top of the barricade and picking up a video game controller, Raven leans into its microphone, and says “Initial trial of the Grounder Pounder version one, ten pound weights attached, spaced six inches apart.  Commencing in three, two, one..Mark.” She hits a button and the machine whirrs into life. Pike can see the chains get dragged in a circle, faster and faster around the machine until they’re a blur. Raven moves a joystick, and suddenly the machine moves forwards.

             Pike can’t believe his eyes.  The sound is horrendous, but tree trunks start disappearing in clouds of splinters.  Chunks of wood start hitting the safety shield, and Raven announces that she is turning the machine.  Pike can see that almost all the wood that was in front of the machine are now destroyed, with the only solid pieces still in the ground at knee height.  Everything else is gone. Simply gone. The machine completes the turn, and begins moving forward, destroying everything in its path. After another minute, Raven presses a button on the controller, and the machine powers down, chains coming to a noisy rest around the machine once more, digging a furrow as they slow down.   Pike walks out into the testing ground, shaken, his mind whirling. “This….this could change the course of the war. This could be everything!!” He says this excitedly, mind picturing Grounders running in fear of this, their spears and arrows getting shredded in midair. “How is it powered, and what’s the range?? And can we put blades or something sharp on it?”

             “I cannibalized a solar panel from the Ring, and put in a deep cell battery.  In full sunlight, at full power, it can go almost 200 miles, but slowly. The range on the control module is about 200 yards, and the battery on that will last about a day, and then need to be recharged.  As for blades, we run the risk of a blade snapping from the sheer force and damaging the machine. Or becoming a piece of shrapnel flying at over two hundred feet per second” Raven says this as she comes out from behind the shield.  ‘I can take him out with one push of the button. I can end this war’, she thinks to herself. Then she realizes that Pike would have more than enough time to get away from the machine, shoot her, and nothing would be solved. She focuses again as Pike looks at the aerial footage, practically jumping up and down in his excitement.  “Sir?? SIR? SIR!!”, she says loudly, catching his attention once more. 

            “What is it, Ms. Reyes?”  His full and undivided attention now rests on her as he speaks.

             "I need to move it outside the walls for it to be useful, and that means I need to park it on the path.  It’s either that, or I remove some mines and park it far enough away that it can drive to the path. I don’t have enough metal to protect it from driving over a mine, and leaving it in here would be too dangerous to us.”

              Pike thinks for a second, debating the risks versus the benefits of moving this device out into the open.  “We can put it on the path, far enough away from the gate that it won’t be a danger, but if we need to, we can drive it around the mines.  I have a map of the mine placement.” Raven nods her consent, and drives the machine to the gate, which is opened with a wave of Pikes hand.  Everyone in the compound stops what they are doing to see, children ooh-ing, and members of the Guard nodding in approval. She stops the machine where Pike tells her to, turns it off, and begins walking back to the Mechbay.  She stops when she feels a hand on her shoulder, and turns. Pike stands behind her, hand out.

              “The controller, Ms. Reyes, please.”  Pikes tone is polite, but firm.

               “What?!!? You don’t know the first thing about operation this machine.  Without me, you’d never turn it on, or you’ll rev the engine to high and burn it out!!!  You need me to pilot this thing!!” Ravens tone starts surprised, turns angry, and finishes with yelling.

                Pike is unmoved.  “Push the button in the center to turn it on and off, joystick to pilot, red button on the top to start the chains”, he says in a flat voice.  “Don’t make this into a scene. You created a device for Arkadia, and I speak for Arkadia, so I decide who will and won’t be trusted with this.”  He snaps his fingers, and two members of the Guard with drawn weapons flank him. Sinclair looks nervously between them, their weapons, and Raven.  Pike speaks again. “NOW. Hand over the controller, or you get to spend time in jail.” Tucking her aviator style glasses in her jacket, Raven hands it over with a huff, and whirls around, walking back into the Mechbay with her brace squeaking behind her.

                Sinclair walks over, having not said a word before.  “That could have been handled better, Charles. Raven is probably the smartest person here.  Who knows what more she could do, and you just treated her like garbage!! Why should she produce anything else if there’s no incentive?”

                Pike waves him off.  “I’ll give her an award, upgrade her to Chief Mechanic, or something like that.  But it’s your job to get her under control. You should have known what she was tinkering with, seeing as she’s in your department.  From now on, I want weekly reports about what’s going on in your section. Got it? Once we win this, I’m going to need you and Raven to make some scavenging runs to some nearby bunkers...see if we can find anything of use.  Oh, speaking of which, I need you to make a long range radio.”

                Wicks face shows his surprise.  “Long range? How long of a distance are you looking for?”  The answer shocks him. “That’s….that’s a really long distance.  You’d have to use the AM band, but I can do it. But why? What do you expect to find out there?”

                Pike smiles.  “I’ve been going over the records that we took from Mount Weather, Sinclair”, he says.  “Turns out we aren’t alone. Mount Weather had a sister bunker to the east, just past Mount Rushmore.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

                Morning dawns, with a trill of birdcall, gradual lightening of the sky, and rustleing movements in the woods.  Octavia Blake sees or hears none of it, since she’s currently buried somewhere in the walls of Arkadia. She and Akela have been going through the passages, identifying key places that Akela asked for.  First they found the rooms of everyone that had participated in the massacre, Akela making little marks in the hallway to signify direction. After the first two, Octavia taps Akela on the shoulder. “I didn’t know you could read, Akela”, she says with some surprise.

              “Read? What is that?”  Akelas voice is full of curiosity, she’s never heard of this “read” before.

               “Reading is what they did in the old days, with symbols on paper that conveyed ideas.  The marks stood for sounds, and that’s how people communicated over long distances. Different cultures had a different way of writing, and a different way of speaking, and some people were valued for their ability to know more than one type.”  Octavias voice takes on a degree of excitement, it’s hard not to enjoy talking about the past when you grew up with a history nerd like Bellamy.

               “As interesting as that sounds, it also sounds very very confusing.  Anyways, I don’t know this symbol speech. Now focus. Where do you keep your  _ fayogon _ ?”

               “Akela, if other people come and they know where to go because of the marks you made, they are reading.  It may not be letters and words, but they are reading your signs. Can you get information from the signs of others?”

               “Yes, yes,  _ Okteivia _ .”  Akela sounds exasperated.  “All scouts and  _ natswisa _ learn this, but each clan that I know of has their own marks.  Now can we please find the  _ fayogon _ ?”

                Octavia leads her downwards, through winding paths covered in spiderwebs, needing the occasional detour to go around roadblocks caused the the fall of Arkadia.  They finally arrive at their destination, and Octavia takes Akela to the grate, showing the racks of gleaming assault rifles, crates of grenades, and boxes loaded with full magazines, ready for the taking.  The night supervisor is still there, taking an inventory, and Octavia gives a small hiss when she sees his face.

                Akela is quick to pick up on it, and questions her.  “Who is that man,  _ Okteivia _ ? You seem to not like him very well.”  She studies Octavia, and then the man who doesn’t even know that they are there.  

                Octavia answers in a low voice, teeth bared.  “His name’s Rick Belasi. He’s one of the bastards that took part in the massacre.  He also took quite a lot of pleasure in beating down Lincoln and the  _ Kyongedon _ hostages when they were first imprisoned.  I wouldn’t mind putting HIM on a Cutting Tree.”

                “Have we visited his room yet,  _ Okteivia _ ?”  Akelas voice is mild, but she looks at the man with renewed interest.

                 “No, not yet.  His rooms are actually one of the last, since they are the farthest from where we are right now.  But--” Before Octavia has a chance to finish her sentence, the door to the Armory slides open with a hiss, and another person walks into the room.  

                 “Anything new happen since yesterday, Rick?”  The newcomer asks this as he puts a steaming mug of coffee down on the desk.

                 “Nah.  Not a thing.  Everything is exactly as it was yesterday, and the day before.  I kinda wish they would just attack already, so we could slaughter them.  You should have seen it man, we went through them like a hot knife through butter.  If thirteen people could take on three hundred and win without a scratch, what do you think one hundred could do?  Pike needs to just let the Guard loose, so they can do what they do best.” Belasis voice is excited, eager, as if the slaughter of three hundred innocent people wasn’t enough innocent blood on his hands.  Octavia looks over at Akela and sees her staring very, very intently at Belasi. “I’mma grab some food, then sleep. I’ll see you tonight, try not to let the place blow up, will ya?” With a wave, Belasi walks out of the room.  

                 Akela turns to Octavia, a creepy smile on her face that reaches her eyes.  “Let’s visit HIS rooms next.”

                 They reach his rooms, after an uneventful journey.  Looking through the ventilation grating, they see that the room is unoccupied, which gives them time to plan.  After searching for and finding an access panel down the hall from the room, and they settle down to wait. Akela sits down, folds up her legs, and simply goes to sleep, while Octavia paces. And checks her knives.  And paces. After the fourth time she checks her knives, Akela cracks an eye open and orders her to wait someplace that’s away from her. Octavia starts to retort, and then sees that the assassins hand is very close to one of her throwing knives, so Octavia does the smart thing and walks away.  She walks to the next junction, and resumes her pacing. 

                 After what feels like one hundred laps of the intersection, Akela walks up, and simply says, “He’s here.”  They go back to the grate, and watch as Belasi gets ready for bed. Akela tells Octavia to wait there, and she disappears.  Two minutes later, there’s a small knock at the door, and Belasi gets up to answer it, scratching his ass as he walks to the door.

                 He opens the door, and starts speaking before the door is open and without even looking to see who’s there.  “What do you want, I’m trying to get some sleeMMMFFF!!!” He’s cut off by Akela, who pushes him into the room with a knife at his throat, a hand across his mouth, and a smile on her face.

                 “If you move wrong, or don’t listen to me, I’ll kill you.  Do what I say, and you’ll make it out alive. Make a noise that I don’t like, and I’ll slit your throat right here.   Deal?” Her voice is calm, quiet, as if she just wants to know if it’s sunny outside. A small trickle of blood runs down Belasis neck, matched by the trickle of yellow running down his leg.  

                  He croaks out, “Y-yes!! Please don’t hurt me, I’ll cooperate.”  His eyes are full of fear, and Akela thinks to herself that it would be so, so easy to simply cut his throat here and now.  But she remembers how he talked about killing others, and she knows that his life is not for her to take. Not until he has suffered the pain of three hundred deaths.  

                  Moving him to the bed, she forces him to sit down.  “I’m going to need a hand here, please come in”, she calls out.  Octavia walks to the access panel, and after looking to see that the coast is clear, exits into the hallway and runs into the room.  When Belasi sees her, his eyes widen and a look of fury crosses his face.

                  “YOU, you little Grounder pounder traitor bitch!!  Not even your brother will be able to save you when Pike finds out about what you’ve do-aaaah!!”  He’s cut short again, but this time by Akela grabbing one of his nipples and giving it a savage twist.  

                  “Keep your mouth shut, _skrishmelon_ .  She’s the one who said that we shouldn’t kill you, so I’d  be very nice to her. Grab the blanket, Octavia, and wrap it around his shoulders.  Now that that’s done, we’re all going to go for a little walk. Octavia, make sure that there’s nobody that can see us.”  Akela moves around so that she’s behind her captive, and manages to cut his neck a little as she rotates around him. “Remember what I said.  If you don’t cooperate, I’ll be forced to kill you, and you won’t like that. Now walk.”

                  Marching him to the access panel, she forces him through, and Octavia shuts the panel behind them.  Octavia turns around to see Akela savagely pounding his head into the wall four times, until he slides to the ground, unconscious and leaving a trail of blood.  Akela lets out a sound of satisfaction, as Octavia frowns. “Feeling better?”, she asks Akela.

                  “Yes, I do”, Akela answers.  “This is just the beginning of his  _ Wamplei kom Thauz Kodon. _ Oh,  _ SKRISH!   _ We’re going to have to carry him back, aren’t we?”

                  “Yep”, is Octavias sour reply.

  
  
  


_ Mochof, gona =  _ Thank you very much, warrior

_ Yu gada prom in gon ai _ ? _ Nou? Ait.  Os gonplei, you. _ = You have a question for me?  No? Ok. Good fight.

_ natswisa _ = assassin (night knife)

_ Wamplei kom Thauz Kodon _ = Death by a Thousand cuts

Skrishmelon = Shithead

_ SKRISH =  _ Shit!


End file.
